The Perennial Wanderer
by Ezeiel
Summary: "What you seek is seeking you." She's faced with a new crisis that she never expected to encounter. His new face was charismatic and somewhat hypnotic. To say she had an underlying fondness for him wouldn't cut it... resigning herself to the delicacy of infatuation made it sound neurotic. She was, in fact, harbouring affection for her Spaceman. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DOCTOR WHO!
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello! So, this is my first attempt at a Doctor Who fanfiction, and hopefully it will be all right. This story commences from the episode _'The Shakespeare Code_ '. Please enjoy this attempt.**

 **Updates will most likely be slow, as with my others due to studying as well as some issues saving documented work. Thank you!**

 **Tenth Doctor/OFC relationship.**

 **Amara's incarnations:**

 **7TH: Yvonne Strahovski (season three timeline)**

 **8TH: Keira Knightley (season three finale onward)**

 **9TH: Emilia Clarke ( _"End of Time_ " timeline)**

* * *

Looking at each other, knowing what Davros undoubtedly had planned, they both knew that this would only have one outcome, an outcome the Doctor couldn't bring himself to comprehend as he saw her remain unmoving to his right.

He wished he could have seen this earlier, wished that this wasn't the end. He'd been too slow, for such a long time while she'd been waiting to him, to find the Master, for him for centuries... and now, now one of them would die and the other would stay with a broken heart.

There wasn't even time to say goodbye properly, or to speak words of forgiveness. _What might have been_ for all eternity would have no chance of happening... he had always known, deep down, that he was meant to be with her. _Always..._ he'd just clung on to the memory of Rose selfishly and for too long.

He could see it reflected in Amara's eyes: The same realisations, the same feelings, and the same dread about what was to come. It hadn't been inevitable; they had always known this day would come.

He always left everyone behind, everyone who travelled with him were always left behind. They had all wanted to be with him forever and he had dropped them all the same... so many broken heart he never intended to break. And as he looked over at her, he saw the heart he had left broken unintentionlly. He would give anything, _anything_ , to not break it.

When she had pushed him out of the way to sacrifice herself after that Dalek attack when he'd stupidly ran after Rose, he could only watch in pure horror as she'd deduced he was more important than her. He'd never seen Jack so furious, so full of hatred towards him in all the time he'd known him. He knew then that his decision had been reckless. He had never been so scared; left to believe that it would be only him left, that it would be him who got left behind, broken hearted.

But she had survived, that _clever_ woman had survived. The pain had almost diminished with a new incarnation, he could see the pain in her eyes as she stood before Davros.

He never wanted to let her go, he didn't want her to change and he certainly didn't want to ever forget her... neither did he want to forget the moment of utter clarity when he had realised he loved her.

That prospect seemed to be dim as he stood helpless aboard the Crucible with her beside him, more than ready to accept her fate.

She was distressed, with Jack lying lifeless on the floor and Donna falling into a never-ending peril in the confines of the TARDIS, she could see no positive way out from their current situation. So many people lost all for a Time Lord. It hurt to think that they had created an army, _unintentionally of course_ , but all the same it was an army. An army so devoted to them that they were risking their lives. And Martha, her good old friend, so plucky and brave and _good_... so prepared to do the right thing. Even Rose in her own way, she was another who had been enarmoured by him, who loved him and was willing to fight for him. She crossed a Parallel Universe just to be with him...

She wondered if her mother had ever been faced with certain death as she was now, or whether she had become neutral in the exploration of E Space. She didn't know, she would never know...

"And here we are... the beginning of the end."

"Oddly poetic for you, Davros." Amara commented with a slight frown, tilting her head at him. "Life is a circle. The end of one journey is the beginning of the next."

Davros glanced over at her for a moment before he wheeled around. "Activate the holding cells," Davros commanded as beams of energy appeared over them, glittering majestically which was seemingly odd for a Dalek construction.

Glancing over at the Doctor, Rose's gaze stilled when she saw his gaze hadn't left Amara as she stood away from him which immediately ignited her worry about his lack of attention to her. She knew he loved her, she would fight to prove that to anyone who would disagree.

He didn't even shift on his feet as Davros glided over to him. "Excellent... even when powerless and broken, a Time Lord is best contained."

Only then did the Doctor finally look up, his eyes glistening with loathing. "Still scared of me then?" He demanded, though his voice was slightly uneven and lacked the usual assurance that resonated within his cocky ego but instead, he sounded drained and helpless, unable to do anything. Reaching out, he pressed a palm against the light and caused it to ripple with blue light.

"I believe it's time we talked, Doctor, after such an awaiting reunion…"

Suddenly something in the Doctor snapped and he glared at the Dalek creator, "No, we're _not_ doing the nostalgia tour. I want to know what's happening right here, right now, because the Supreme Dalek said 'vault,' yeah?" He would endeavour to destroy every Dalek in sight after having learned the appropriate information to help him.

He would do anything, and even if that meant he would have to bait Davros first. "As in, dungeon. Cellar. Prison. You're not in charge of the Daleks, are you? They've got you locked away down here in the basement, like, what, a servant? _Slave? Court jester?_ "

"We have... an arrangement," Davros replied.

The Doctor laughed, the sound odd as it left his mouth, hollow and emotionless as he shook his head. "No, no, no. I've got the word. You're the Dalek's pet!"

"Doctor!" Rose's voice was shrill, and neither did she miss the eye roll from Amara as the woman stood farthest away from her.

Her shrill shout immediately drew Davros's attention over to her, "So very full of fire, is she not? And to think, you crossed entire Universes, striding parallel to parallel just to find him again, and when you do... he's not yours anymore... how does that feel? It shouldn't matter; she'll be dead soon enough..."

Amara bit the inside of her cheek in contempt. "Thanks for the head's up."

"No, leave her out of this." The Doctor hissed in pure rage, his body fizzling in a cold anger as Davros threatened Amara. He wouldn't touch her.

"But this one," Davros ignored him and turned to Rose, "She is mine, to do with as I please."

"Then why am I still alive?" Rose demanded, baring her teeth in frustration. She wasn't stupid, she knew that the Doctor hadn't been solely referring to her, she knew that he wasn't just telling Davros to leave her alone. She was so confused; she had crossed universes to find him again, strove to found him and when she finally achieved her goal, she found him safely in the arms of another.

"You must be here. It was foretold." Davros asserted, "Even the Supreme Dalek would not dare to contradict the prophesies of Dalek Caan." Pressing a button on the control panel, a light flickered behind him, revealing Dalek Caan sitting upon a platform, or what remained of him at least.

"So cold and dark," Caan wheezed, "Fire is coming... the endless flames..."

"What is that thing?" Rose questioned, hoping the Doctor would provide her with an answer, but he was staring at Davros, his eyes unwavering.

Instead, it was Davros who answered. "The last of the Cult of Skaro. He flew into the Time War, unprotected, but did more than that. He saw Time. Its infinite complexity and majesty raging through his mind. And..." He paused for a mere moment, gathering his breath before continuing. "He saw you. All of you."

Rose glanced at the Doctor.

"This I have foreseen in the wild and the wind," Caan declared, singing. "The Doctor will be here, to serve as witness, at the end of everything. To the end of his world... The Doctor and his precious Children of Time!" He paused, for what Amara assumed, to make the even more dramatic which Daleks seemed to be so fond of doing. "And one of them will die!"

Amara closed her eyes as Caan spoke, knowing that if it was spoken off, it was more than likely true. She knew she was the one to die in Caan's prophecies. She deserved the fate. It would be her until the very end.

The Doctor's hands tightened into fists, turning to look at Caan, seething. "Was it you, Caan? Did you kill Donna? Tell me, why did the TARDIS door close? _Tell me!_ "

"Oh, that's it," Davros smirked, delighted at the conflicting emotions of the Doctor. "The end, the fire, the rage of a Time Lord who butchered millions..." the Doctor closed his eyes as Davros's words. "There he is," He laughed jubilantly. "Why so shy? Go on; show your companion... show her your true self. Dalek Caan had promised me that, too."

"I have seen it," Caan sung right on cue. "At the time of ending, the Doctor's soul will be revealed."

"What does that mean?" Rose pressed, hoping for an answer that she didn't receive. She frowned. She was confused; the Doctor knew she loved him and he looked so broken. He didn't even look _that_ happy to see her again. _Did he love this Amara..._

"We will discover it together..." Davros announced with a sudden finality. "Our final journey. Because the ending approaches... the testing begins."

"Testing of what?"

"You'll know soon enough, but first..." Davros spun away from the Doctor and ventured over to Amara, a smirk pulling across his face. "Lady Chancellor, you're all bright and shiny and new again since last we met. Nothing to say?" Davros paused as Amara slowly looked up, her steely gaze falling upon his face. "You were overruled the day Gallifrey fell, were you not? How Rassilon ruined both your mother and yourself..."

Amara considered not replying, choosing to remain dwelling in silence but she knew that would do little to stifle Davros. "We created that monster the day the High Council resurrected him. Prosperity and power makes monsters, and Rassilon was a monster, a monster with a once friendly face who cared naught for the civilisation he had aided in creating seeing as he was prepared to commit genocide." Amara recited monotonously, unblinking as she recalled the decision. "You would have gotten along so well with one another."

"Universal conquest is absolute." Davros countered immediately.

"The universe is full of monsters with friendly faces. You are, of course, the exception." Amara paused, clasping her hands together in front of hair as she prodded the holding cell with her shoe. " _O beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on..._ Gotta love ol' Shakey boy."

"Enough." Davros hissed before purring: "Always alive with fire."

"It only takes a spark."

Davros surged forward towards her holding cell, his smirk growing sickeningly sinister. "Which makes you the perfect test subject for the next major phase in global domination." He wheeled away as two humans... or humanoids, rather, marched in carrying what appeared to be a Mind Probe. "The Skaro Mind Mesmeristor."

Amara stared at the piece of technology for a moment, knowing that they fully planned to use it on her with Davros's evident attention upon her rather than the Doctor. "You forget yourself, I'm not human." She attempted weakly, knowing that by its name alone, it was a hybrid of a Mind Probe and Skaro Mesmeristor - they wanted information and total obedience? _Surely that would result in... Oh, yes it would._

"It's had an upgrade since then. Quite a few upgrades." Davros explained briefly, wheeling around to face her again. "Remember, it was used on you before because you, _Lady Chancellor_ , had so much power and you hid so much from Rassilon."

Rose, having regained her voice, turned to look over at the Doctor, panic rising within her. "Doctor, what is that?" She managed through a whisper, a deep frown pulling across her face.

The Doctor, who had been struck in a horrified silence, swallowed thickly and finally answered her. "... It looks like a Skaro Mesmeristor. It's technology can convert the human brain into a humanoid that will only obey them. But, I think, they've combined it with a mind probe. Except the probe doesn't look... it looks Gallifreyan in model."

Davros looked over at the Doctor for a split moment. "Still so very clever, Doctor."

"So, what?" Amara breathed, knowing that there was no decent alternative available to her. She didn't like being used as a scapegoat for anyone or anything, not unless she knew what for, and she knew that Davros would never reveal that to her. "You want the information in my head about what exactly? There's no guarantee I'll possess what you're looking for."

"If not, then you'll be incredibly useful in other ways." He informed curtly, noting the surprisingly void expression upon her face.

"As a gormless mute."

"And so much more." Davros aided with his smirk, raising his hands to her in amusement. "Rassilon wanted you dead, wiped from the Universe. I want to restore the power that was stolen from you. I could give you back Gallifrey."

Amara's hearts almost leapt into her throat at the mention of her home, the longing for it and the yearning for her past existence. "Gallifrey is gone." She answered stoically, gritting her teeth to contain the slow boil of anger. "It burned."

"How did it feel?" inquired Davros, tilting his head at her. "Did you listen to the songs of triumph? Did you weep in glory or in sorrow?"

Amara ignored him, letting a deep sigh pass her lips as she clenched her jaw. "If this is successful, you are to save Donna Noble." Davros went to open his mouth to speak but she persisted, silencing him immediately. He would listen to her, she would make him bloody listen no matter the consequences. "You are to let the Doctor and Rose go, you are to let all those you've enslaved go."

Davros laughed. "But that would make our domination worthless."

"You lot are dim," Amara breathed, turning around with a furrowed brow. "Look at all these people, these human beings... look at them and consider, just consider their potential."

"They are meaningless."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Amara reprimanded. "Anyway, who cares you have me to do with as you please. You could create clones and dominate far more vast galaxies with my genes, genetic splicing isn't actually that difficult." Amara explained simply, not regretting a single thing. She would not let him take the Earth and neither would she allow him to ruin another civilisation. She wanted to goad him, to infuriate him. "I'm almost disappointed that you hadn't considered that an option. Vast colonies of... well, _me_."

"You would sacrifice yourself for another pitiful planet?"

Amara nodded, "I've done it before, I'll do it again."

Davros was silent for a moment, contemplating something for a few seconds before he spoke again. "So it was you who ordered the use of that weapon when we failed to breach the Citadel's sky trenches..."

"After Arcadia fell, I couldn't let Rassilon continue with his farce." Amara recalled her actions and how reckless they'd been, she'd forced Koschei to sacrifice himself to the Daleks without a second thought. "I'm good at tinkering. A much more fascinating career choice, wouldn't you agree?" She smiled slightly, knowing she always belonged in the career path of her father rather than mother.

"I doubt anyone would ever condone the use of a De-Mat Gun, would you Doctor?" Davros finally looked over at the Time Lord as another deadly smirk was fashioned from the gallery of wrinkles strewn across his face.

The Doctor frowned for a moment, wondering if he'd heard him correctly. Had she... _No._ "Amara?" His voice was so quiet, so unsure and it broke her, it broke her so much that she could bear to look at him.

"You abused your power as Lady Chancellor, didn't you?" Davros cackled, finding pure amusement in watching the gradual inner-conflict cross her face. "You became your own worst enemy."

"I did."

Rose looked over at the Doctor again to find him silently pleading with Amara though she wasn't looking at him. She'd never seen him look so broken before, and it hurt her to know that he was breaking at the sight of losing someone who had replaced her. "Doctor?" He never replied, he didn't even glance her or register that he'd heard her.

He'd ignored her.

Amara clenched her jaw in frustration. "The weapons were in my care as High Chancellor, though I was forced to resign they still needed by biodata for clearance." She trailed off, frowning more severely now as she realised it was partly her fault. She couldn't let that get in the way of everything. "You're upset, aren't you? Because it worked, it served its purpose. If Rassilon had the Sash, Rod and Great Key we would have been faced with a dictatorship; he would have had ultimate power. As Chancellor, it was my duty to prevent that from ever occurring."

Davros scoffed, "You are corrupt, just like him... just look at the anger; the fury is alive within you, seething and hungry."

"You think I wanted to be Chancellor?" Amara retorted, staring at him deadly. "I was chosen by my predecessors; Flavia and Borusa decided to give the worst job to the offspring of the President. It could been seen as a mercy given to avoid insult, it was anything but." She paused, feeling her frustration increasing the more she was questioned. "There were three of us, and I did my job. I _did_ my job."

"You abused your authority." Davros challenged ruthlessly.

Amara snapped then, for the first time the Doctor had ever seen her, she lost her temper to a Dalek. "Do you honestly think I _wanted_ to use a Dematerialisation Gun?! There was no other alternative, I _tried_ to find one. I am _very_ clever, _believe me_ , so when I found no other way..." Amara paused suddenly, closing her eyes to contain her frustration, her fists curling as she struggled to retain herself. She hadn't been this angry since Rassilon had ruined everything. "It was a last resort. I regret using it... it wasn't the right thing to do."

The Doctor erupted then, practically seething as he propelled himself at the holding cell. "I stole the Moment from the Time Vaults! I ensured that the Cult of Skaro would never see the sun rise again, millions wiped from existence. Take me!" He pounded on the cell, wanting to reach Amara as her cell vanished, releasing her. "Take me, please!"

Amara swallowed thickly, "There was no other alternative."

Davros smirked. "Look at her. You enjoyed the war, you _miss_ it..." He neared her again until he was sat right in front of her, her eyes staring down upon him as she remained collected. "You _miss_ the power you had. You thrived on it, and now look at you, powerful no more. Ruined and at my mercy... any resistance is futile."

"I'm not resisting, I'm obliging." Amara countered smoothly, her face falling to show no evident emotion that Davros thrived on. Clicking her tongue, Amara crouched so she was at Davros's level, regarding him for a short moment before she spoke. "Don't be a coward; they never did the war any good. If you're going to delete my existence, just do it."

Ceasing in his pounding on the cell, the Doctor froze and stared over at Amara in complete shock. "'Mara, you can't..." He begged, feeling his legs growing weak beneath him.

Amara looked at him then, the first proper look since having boarded the Crucible and he could see the tears in her eyes as she held his gaze. "What choice is there?" It was truth; they were cornered and there was no evident escape in sight and neither could see herself living any longer. If it meant the Doctor had a chance, then she would sacrifice herself if it meant he could help the Earth. "No more running."

Then she looked away and looked at Davros again. "'Mara, please..."

"Behold..." Davros remarked, nodding to two humanoids who silently strode over to her and seized her by the arms before pulling her towards a restraining chair that had been erected near the control panel. Davros pressed a button and the restraints snapped open, awaiting her.

Amara frowned... _Dalekanium?_ It was a very slim chance of getting out it unscathed, that much she knew. Once in the chair, Amara found herself swiftly restrained at the wrists and ankles while her head was forced back against the head-rest to keep her frozen in place. "Dalekanium melded to a probe... I feel like electricity is going to be involved somewhere..." She blanched when she saw the probe moving towards her.

Davros sneered, "How clever of you..."

Adjusting her posture, Amara swallowed thickly. "I won't remember saying this, but chasing the wrong things makes you lose a good thing." She knew there was no changing Davros's mind or to coerce him into a different path.

"There is no victory without a battle, all Daleks know this. It is sweetest after the suffering of defeat."

"Anyone can deal with victory, but you, you haven't conquered your defeat. Only the mighty would ever do such a thing, you failed to destroy your enemies and for what?" Amara closed her eyes, frowning in thought as her eyes trailing over to finally look at Davros again. " _Tyranny?_ Tyranny can never defeat the power of ideas."

Davros scoffed, "You are not seasoned in warfare- "

"All war is a deception. War isn't great..." Amara acknowledged softly, shivering at the sensation of the metal against her skin as she felt the low current thriving. "It's strange what desire will make those foolish enough to do. Then again, nothing great was ever accomplished without sacrifices."

As he saw Davros's hand move towards a button on the control panel which was wired up to the probe. "Wait! Don't, _please_..." The Doctor exclaimed, pressing himself against the holding cell despite the resistance he was fighting. "You can't!"

Amara smiled slightly as she looked over at him again. "It's not your fault, Spaceman." _Never._ She winked. She knew her words would do little to appease the Doctor of all people, but she couldn't bear for him to blame himself. Besides, she had a plan.

"This will hurt... endlessly." Davros's voice slithered into the air as another smirk crossed his withered face.

"Good thing I deserve it then." Amara agreed with a shaky breath. "But I don't think you understand; time doesn't heal anything, it merely teaches us how to handle the pain. A pain you seemingly cannot ignore. Pain changes people, Davros." She gave a great sigh before closing her eyes again, allowing her head to sit firmly against the head-rest, her jaw clenched and ready for the pain that was to come. "We cannot learn without pain. Remember that."

Her head snapped back as the sudden rush of electricity that surged through her skull, fizzling away as flashes passed across her mind's eye, flickering and screaming as she gripped the chair for support, her fingers curling.

Davros laughed as the probe powered up, emitting an amber light as it glowed around her crown. "Watch with a broken heart, Doctor!"

And he did. He couldn't tear his eyes away as he stared, horrified as a scream rippled through the air to greet them as a projection of blue light vibrated to glow above the probe.

* * *

 _They had broken into her rooms whilst she had slept. She was flung into small room, flung into a prison cell. She behaved with dignity. She hadn't been alone, of course, Braxietel and Flavia had visited and had informed her of the difficulty in regards to operating the Time Vaults via the need of her biodata for access._

 _They had supplied her with components to send out an alert; she was competent enough to fashion a device which would enable her to infiltrate Rassilon's administration. She would not go quietly, she would never go quietly. Communicators and sonics... broken technology was always so useful._

 _She didn't waste any time once she had constructed it; to rig every speaker was a simple thing if one knew how to do so effectively._

 _"This is the Lady Kliavia, Lady Chancellor of the High Council of Gallifrey. I have been betrayed and imprisoned by those who should have been loyal to Gallifrey, the High Council. People of Gallifrey, don't fall to corruption. Rassilon cannot save you, our civilisation may have been built on Rassilon's genocide but we mustn't allow it to fall back to the days of genocide." She carried on speaking as the door to her cell opened. "We are different from them..."_

 _"Hand it over," Rassilon said, holding out his hand._

 _"I don't think so," Kliavia refused, backing away, her head held high. "I want everyone to hear."_

 _"What makes you think they want to listen to you?" He moved closer towards her, a smile pulling across his lips. "And what makes you think anyone would care? You witless... Gallifrey is mine; it belongs to me."_

 _She said nothing but neither did she make any effort to move._

 _"Kliavia," Rassilon said, stepping closer still, his frustration evidently displayed. "You are a clever woman, one of the cleverest, but you don't know when to be silent, so you've left me no choice but to silence you."_

 _"You don't frighten me," Kliavia resisted with a flare of defiance. "But I frighten you, I've seen it... that's the issue with your type, you can never stand to hear that truth, what you really are."_

 _"I'm sorry to hear that," Rassilon spoke. "I think I'll have to make an example of you, as you know, disobedience is not to be tolerated. You're forcing my hand."_

 _Kliavia regained her voice immediately, fuming and alive with fury. "Never, Rassilon, will I betraying everything I've worked towards for something as ludicrous as this! Your lust for power has left you corrupt. I will not join you in this farce,_ never _."_

 _"Silence!" Rassilon bellowed._

 _"You've broken so many laws," Kliavia told Rassilon, her jaw clenched in utter despair and contempt. "This will be your undoing."_

 _Rassilon rumbled with laughter as she drew her near, smiling wistfully. "My dear Kliavia," he murmured softly, "Gallifrey will never know."_

 _Kliavia had opposed Rassilon's resurrection. They insisted she loved power, had allowed that to corrupt her and blind her from the truth. They had insisted that Rassilon was the one to lead them to victory. Rassilon would never succeed. Why couldn't everyone else see that? Rassilon was corrupt... having woken him meant their complete destruction._

...

 _"…so, the Daleks have declared a war on Gallifrey? If they break our defences we won't survive! It will be chaos, total destruction. We can't fight the Daleks! This is complete madness! There_ has _to be another way."_

 _She knew the outcome before the actual war had been declared. Both Time Lords and Daleks would be destroyed. The Last Great Time War... No Daleks. No Gallifrey._

 _"Rassilon, be reasonable! We can't go in for a war with the Daleks! It'll be a certain death for_ all of us _!" Kliavia exclaimed in utter outrage, "It's genocide!"_

 _"We can't agree to a war. We should at least consult it with the rest of the Council, we can't announce a death sentence just like this!" Another accused, and Kliavia was grateful._

 _"I have decided that we will fight!" Rassilon roared. "We will stand, and Gallifrey will be victorious."_

 _"Daleks are Daleks! They thrive off of warfare and universal domination; we will die if we go to war with them! Just listen to your councillors!" Kliavia took a deep breath. "They have advanced weaponry available to them, strong enough to wipe out our civilisation, to reduce Gallifrey to nothing!"_

 _"Quiet!" Rassilon exclaimed through gritted teeth, slamming his fists down. "The decision had been made. And if you don't like it you can leave, you'll be condemned as a traitor, abandoning Gallifrey to war. It's this or death. Your decision."_

 _Kliavia's mouth fell, "You'd condemn your own people to death..."_

 _"Don't complain." Rassilon warned lowly, his eyes glowing hazardously. "We'll fight, there's nothing more to be discussed."_

 _"You are mad." Kliavia accused, "And you will lead us all to destruction."_

* * *

Electrical charges hissed and crackled as the spat from the probe, rippling into the air from her head, swimming until they dispersed, having gathered in the probe which was practically vibrating with the increased power source, feeding and sucking it dry.

Davros looked over at the Doctor to see him pressed against the cell, his eyes glazed over as the other Child of Time thrashed in the chair. "Rassilon ruined her."

As the impulses increased in their activity, Amara's head rattled from side-to-side as her face contorted in pain, trying to maintain the assault on her mind.

Palms pressed against the cell, clammy and aching, the Doctor knew any attempt was futile. Davros would never listen to him. " _Stop it!_ Just..." He trailed, banging his head against the cell in despair, tears gathering in his eyes as he stared. "Davros, stop it!" He begged, crumpling at the sight of Amara.

"He corrupted her, forced her to become the monster she had tried to avoid becoming all her life." Davros told him, wheeling around to face him properly, his fingers drumming against the console. "She's no better than he was."

The Doctor slammed his hands against the cell in outrage, bearing his teeth in fury, seething at Davros's ideas of justice. "He wrongfully imprisoned her, took away her rights as Chancellor! He obstructed her role on the High Council." He exclaimed, enraged and maddened.

"Corruption!" Caan giggled, vibrating with mirth.

* * *

 _Amara frowned, seeing a somewhat familiar red-haired woman across from them, visible through the window in the door. She'd never met her before, though when the woman clocked the Doctor and herself, she knew there was only one person it could have been._

 _"Donna?" The Doctor mouthed from beside her, utterly stunned._

 _Donna grinned widely, "DOCTOR!" She replied, seemingly excited by her gestures. "OH MY GOD."_

 _"But... what? Wha... WHAT?" He paused in thought, confused and at a severe loss for words to be meeting her again. "How?"_

 _Donna, on the other hand, was elated. "It's me!" She grinned._

 _Amara laughed in amusement at their conversation. "Well, yes, I can see that." The Doctor agreed with a nod of his head._

 _"Oh this is brilliant!" Donna boasted, grinning like a Cheshire cat at him before her eyes trailed to Amara. "Who's that then? New companion? You replaced me?!"_

 _Amara laughed again before giving a wave. "I'm Amara," She smiled at the other woman. "You're Donna Noble?" Donna nodded eagerly. "I can't believe I've finally met you!"_

 _"He's told you about me?" Donna frowned in confusion._

 _Amara went to speak again but the Doctor nudged her. "We have a bit of a problem to deal with, wouldn't you agree?" He frowned, getting both of their attentions. "What are you doing there?"_

 _"I was looking for you!" Donna pointed, grinning again._

 _Frowning, the Doctor paused for a moment. "What for?"_

 _"I, came here... trouble, read about it... internet. I thought, trouble EQUALS you!" She beamed, her hands moving erratically as she mimed away. "And this place is WEIRD! Pills! So I hid. Back there. Crept along. Heard this lot... Looked._ You! _Because they..." She stuck her thumb in the direction of Ms. Foster who staring right at them._

 _They all froze immediately._

 _"Are we interrupting you?" Ms. Foster pressed, glancing between the three of them expectantly._

 _"RUN!" The Doctor ordered to Donna, who immediately did as he instructed as Amara sealed all entrances with her sonic._

 _..._

 _"Donna Noble!" At the sound of her name, Donna's head snapped up to see Amara pushed the curtain of beads aside to venture in the room with a slightly concerned expression pulling across her face. "Where's my number one temp of Chiswick, eh?"_

 _The Doctor was standing behind her, his hands shoved securely in the pockets of his coat. "Everything all right?" He asked, tilting his head in question._

 _Staring at them for a moment, Donna wasted no time in throwing herself at them as she hugged the Doctor tightly to her. "Oh, god!"_

 _The Doctor laughed at the gesture, "What was that for then?"_

 _Pulling away from him, she sucked Amara into a tight embrace as tears started to stream don her face as the memories fizzled in her head. "You're all right..."_

 _"I should hope so," Amara frowned. "Donna, what's wrong?" She tried to pull away but Donna was literally clinging to her, almost suffocating her. "What happened?"_

 _Donna sniffled in her ear, "Oh, it was awful..." She managed as Amara rubbed her back before pulling away slightly._

 _"You're fine, I'm fine..." She glanced over at the Doctor, "He's_ always _fine."_

 _But Donna broke out into a fearsome bustle of tears that made Amara's face pale at its mere existence. Looking at the Doctor again, she frowned before helping Donna to sit down. "What happened?"_

 _She'd known, as soon as Donna had disappeared from sight, that something was wrong. She always got that feeling whenever a companion wandered off alone; Martha had been the same... even Jack did it, deliberately to scare her. But the Doctor had kept her distracted, insisting about buying a memento._

 _Donna, not wasting any time, started to explain the entire ordeal to them both, about how she'd turned right and how the Doctor had died... how everyone had died, and that the Titanic had destroyed London. The labour camps and how she had been connected to the TARDIS. The more she spoke, however, the more she seemed to forget._

 _"I can't remember," Donna managed, frustrated and still distressed. "It's slipping... you know, like when you try and think of a dream and it just goes," She sighed, running a hand across her face as she looked over at Amara again._

 _The Doctor had noticed the beetle lying upon the floor, pulling out his glasses as he poked it with an incense stick, frowning._

 _"'Mara..." Donna let out quietly._

 _Looking back over at her, she frowned and took her hand. "What?"_

 _"You died." Donna told her as tears spilled down her cheeks, her words making the Doctor pause in his movements. "I saw you... you were bleeding. Your face... there was blood everywhere but you weren't you, you were different." Donna sobbed, gripping her hands fiercely._

 _Amara frowned, "Different?" She repeated slowly, kneeling in front of her so she could look into her eyes properly. "How so?"_

 _"You were..." Donna frowned for a moment. "You were human and you looked different, like not how you do now. But I knew it was you, like I just knew..."_

 _Amara nodded slowly, understanding why she would have chosen to do such a thing... the only way to ensure death, even if momentary. "Yeah, you must have met my number six, my old face. Chameleon Arch... odd for me to resort to that... unless... " She stared into Donna's eyes and saw flashes of herself running, blood dripping from all facial features. "Who was chasing me? Who was I running from?"_

 _Donna shuddered at the thought, "They were these weird ghost things... all blue and horrible..."_

 _"Gelths?" She didn't understand why... well, she was evidently the only one left to torment in the alternative timeline. What she couldn't comprehend was the suicide... suicide wasn't something she'd ever considered. So why in that other life? The guilt? She couldn't be too sure... "Why was I bleeding, Donna? That couldn't have been the only thing..."_

 _"You kept mumbling about electricity and a... Dalek? I think that's what you said, but you didn't know what that was." Donna told her, frowning softly as Amara's eyes widened slightly before she attempted to force a smile. "You had these two cacti things, one moment they looked human but then there were green and spiky."_

 _Amara smiled slightly, "Vincocci using shimmers and probably another mate of mine, all hairy?" When Donna nodded she held both of her hands. It seemed so similar to her original timeline, except a Dalek had intervened rather than a Sontaran, which explains the need of the Chameleon Arch. "What you saw, it's not real but I can assure you... right now, I am_ very _real."_

 _Donna tried to blink away the tears that continued to fall. "But you died, I_ saw _you die."_

 _"It was the Gelths... survivors of the war, they blamed me for not stopping Rassilon. Some tried to possess my body, all the bleeding you saw... that was because of what the Gelths were attempting to do, it was tearing me apart internally." Amara sighed, composing herself before choosing to continue. "I used the Chameleon Arch because I couldn't bear the pain..."_

 _"Did this actually happen?" The Doctor demanded, his nearest arm seizing Amara to draw her attention to him but she was too worried about Donna to give him an answer._

 _"You refused to regenerate," Donna breathed in a shudder as Amara stiffened beside her. "You shot yourself, and you died. I tried to help you but you were so... you called me the best Temp in Chiswick, and you told me your real name..."_

 _"'Mara wouldn't do that," The Doctor shook his head profusely, "You wouldn't would you, Mar?" He paused when he saw the expression she was wearing. "... Amara?"_

 _Amara stared at Donna. "I haven't even told Martha my real name..." She whispered, trying to shake her mind free of Donna's thoughts... not wanting to picture her end if she had never found Jack._

 _"You stole this man's gun..." Donna started again, pulling a hand free to trail it over Amara's face, recalling where the bullet had entered the skull. "He was try to talk you out of it with this watch, but you threw that into a barbecue and shot... you- you... shot yourself."_

 _Amara winced when she felt Donna apply pressure to her skull, and realised she had met Jack, and used his pistol to end it... "Oh, Donna..." She pried her hand away to hold them again, "I'm so sorry."_

 _"I hit you with my car..." Donna sobbed out again, replaying the memory over in her mind. "You just ran out into the road, I didn't mean to do it. There was so much pain in your eyes, and you wouldn't stop talking about him..." She nodded to the Doctor, "But you didn't know him, and you were so upset..."_

 _"What you saw..." Amara held her hands more firmly, swallowing as she tried to calm the woman despite the slight images flickering through her mind's eye at the connection between the two of them. "The Gelths must have amplified my DNA reconstruction. Donna, forget about it; I would never do that. All that matters is now; none of it was your fault."_

 _The Doctor's brow furrowed immediately. He couldn't help but think that somewhere previously, she'd been close to ending it... because of him. The guilt, what he felt, was eating him alive. He needed to know if she had ever been close, had ever considered ending it all... for him. "We need to talk about this."_

 _"Not yet we don't." Amara brushed him off, only concentrating on Donna who still look distressed. "What I did to myself was what may have happened, not what did happen..." She paused briefly, gathering her thoughts to try and calm Donna. "What you saw was the guilt. It seems to me, from what you saw, that it had become manic, like obsessive. But that was because he died, and I could have regenerated, but I refused. I manipulated my biodata as a coping mechanism which backfired."_

 _"Amara," The Doctor let out, reaching for her again. "Why would you do that? Why..."_

 _Amara clenched her jaw before she chanced a glance at him. "I had nothing left... I_ wanted _to die." She answered as his stilled, horrified and despairing at the future that could of been._

 _She winced slightly as she felt the vibrations pulsating from Donna's grip on her wrists. "That's it, that's all you have to do..." She smiled, nodding to guide her. "Just forget about it, the world that never was because you're my number one Temp, a hundred words per minute."_

 _"What's happening..." Donna let out quietly, "It's slipping away..."_

 _"Just let it leave you."_

 _Amara stared at Donna, frowning when she saw flashes of total destruction, of Wilf and Sylvia... the stars had been going out. Total darkness. The Doctor's body being wheeled along, and... and... She winced, sucking in a sharp breath. "Oh, Donna..." She shuddered when Donna's despair hit her like a surging wave, crashing against her body._

 _"What's... what's wrong? Did I do something?" Donna rambled, her eyes widening as she stared at her friend, confused._

 _"Extrasensory perception." The Doctor explained as Amara slowly let go of her hands, bracing herself on her knees as she winced. "'Mara," His hands wrapped around her shoulders, rubbing her arm._

 _"And I made that happen?" Donna shook her head, not understanding._

 _"She took it away because you were so distressed," He explained, glancing at her as he engulfed her in his arms. "You met her as a human, and you remembered her because it had been horrific, so when you her again your memories of her reached out and she removed them..."_

 _"So, she's..." He swallowed thickly, pressing chin against the top of her head. "Everything the human version of her experienced, she's processing it now so you won't have to relive it again."_

 _"No, don't blame her." Amara pushed herself away from him to try and sit up. "I needed to know what happened... and it didn't necessarily react well with me. Don't blame yourself, it's not your fault." Amara took her hands again and smiled._

 _Beside her, the Doctor rested his forehead against the side of her head and caught a quick flash, a sudden flicker as a gunshot rang out. She didn't both to prevent him looking, to let him see her self-destruction. The day that he had died, she had wasted no time in running. He shuddered when he saw the Gelths tearing apart her mind, assaulting her while she'd been weakened by the attack from the lone Dalek. She'd been so utterly lost._

 _She had killed herself because he was no longer there to keep her going... she had nothing to live for._

 _Leaning back, she sent him a look and swallowed as he forced her into a chair and made her look at him. "It would have never gotten that far..." She rest her head against his shoulder and sighed. "It wasn't your fault... I saw no way out, and chose the cowardly way. Don't blame yourself."_

 _Sighing, he pressed his lips to the top of her head before finally looking at the beetle. "It's one of the Trickster's Brigade," The Doctor spoke after a moment, wanting the topic for all their sakes. "A creature that can change lives in small ways... most times, the Universe just compensates around it, but with you..." The Doctor looked over at Donna and smiled slightly, impressed. "Great big parallel world!"_

 _Relived, Donna starting to smile but she paused in sudden thought. "Hold on, you said parallel worlds are sealed off."_

 _"They are." He agreed with a nod of his. "But you had one created around you. Funny thing is, it seems to be happening a lot, to you."_

 _Donna frowned. "How do you mean?"_

 _"Well, there was that world in the Library," Amara suggested with a slight frown. "Now this..."_

 _"Just goes with the job I suppose." Donna gave a soft shrug of her shoulders; she wasn't anything special, she never had been before, so why now?_

 _The Doctor frowned, looking at her for a moment. "Sometimes I think there's way too much coincidence around you, Donna. I met you once, then we met your grandfather that one Christmas. Then I met you again. In the whole wide Universe, I met you for a second time."_

 _Amara smiled to herself, "You know what they say about destiny."_

 _"Don't be so daft," Donna scoffed with a shake of her head. "I'm nothing special."_

 _It was Amara's turn to scoff at the red-haired woman, "Oh, yes you are!" She assured, smiling amusedly. "You're brilliant."_

* * *

Tears were forming in the Doctor's eyes as he stared at her, petrified as she screamed Donna's name, the veins in her neck constricted as she fought the probe.

The colour had drained from her face, having turned a ghostly white as the electrical charges flicked from her head, hissing as they crackled.

"Please," he turned to Davros, his voice broken with desperation. "Davros, I'll do anything." He glanced back at Amara and winced. "Put me in her place, use me!" He shouted through a clenched jaw. He wanted her to live, to save her... he would do anything for her. He didn't care what happened to him. "You can have me! Do anything you want with me, just get her out!"

* * *

 _"Why only thirteen though?" Koschei demanded with a frown._

 _Kliavia shrugged, "Why does it matter?"_

 _"That's not an answer." He accused with a smirk, "Why doesn't it bother you that we can only live thirteen lives and not more? They never tell you the reasons why either..."_

 _Kliavia smiled slightly. "Rassilon made it so."_

 _"But why?" Koschei demanded through a deep sigh. "I have so many questions that need answering. Where did we come from? What are we, really?"_

 _"Why do I talk to you?" Kliavia stared at him for a moment, "You always bring trouble with you."_

 _"I just want to know why." He glared at her, bristling as he folded his arms across his chest. "I see that look, you know."_

 _"Do you?" Kliavia challenged with a raised brow._

 _"Don't you ever get bored, Kliavia?" He sighed, smiling slightly. "Body after body, face after face... it's so repetitive and boring._ Dull _."_

 _She was silent for a moment, watching before she decided to speak. He did worry her. "You yearn for the chaos, don't you? Death and suffering?" Kliavia pressed. "You'd let Gallifrey fall to the Daleks?"_

 _"Let them burn. Let them all burn and just walk away." Koschei breathed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he pulled her against him. They were friends, they'd always been friends. "You'll never do that though, will you? You're far too honourable."_

 _"There's always a choice," Kliavia told him sombrely._

 _"Such absolute faith, the future is destined for destruction," He smiled at her. "But you already know that, of course."_

 _..._

 _Kliavia glared across the room at Rassilon, her hands clenched into fists to avoid doing what she wanted to do... how she wanted to destroy him, to ruin him and to send him back to where he came from._ Futile _. There would be no changing what he'd already begun._

 _"I have done what none of you had the courage to do, Chancellor Kliavia."_

 _"Is that what we're calling it now?" Kliavia was barely able to control her anger. "You tried to destroy a child, and now you bestow your courage upon him as a duty?" She spat, bearing her teeth as she seethed. "This isn't courage, this is madness."_

 _"He will be brought back, just as I was." Rassilon supplied, uncowed. "We will survive, Kliavia."_

 _Kliavia drew herself from the table, looking down her nose at Rassilon. "There is no I in we, Rassilon. Remember that."_

 _Rassilon glared at her, anger polluting his mind._

 _Kliavia said nothing as she left the room._

 _She found Koschei in his rooms, just where she had guessed he would be lurking. "You are to go to Arcadia immediately." Kliavia breathed out heavily, her shoulders sagging. "You're needed there."_

 _Resting a hand on her shoulder, Koschei pulled her to his chest, searching her eyes. "Rassilon seems to think I'd be more use here, that I'll help with his plans to defend Gallifrey."_

 _"Go to Arcadia, Koschei." Kliavia commanded softly, reaching out to grip one of his hands. "Do you what you can there. Don't let them manipulate you for their own use. Rassilon will ruin you."_

 _Koschei frowned at her, searching her eyes._

 _Kliavia closed her eyes when she felt his hand caressing her face. "You must leave," She told him, moving away immediately, regret filling her gaze. "Please. You'll be safe away from here."_

 _He didn't at anything for a moment, simply nodded and turning away to leave._

 _Of course, Rassilon had found out and she couldn't help but feel triumphant at having defeated his desires of genocide._

 _"You put everything in jeopardy, Kliavia." Rassilon was pacing, his fists clenched, glaring at her as she'd uprooted his plans._

 _"Genocide is not the way to do!" She spoke simply, holding his gaze steadily. "I will not let you corrupt us."_

 _"You'd condemn Gallifrey to save a soldier?" Rassilon neared her, and she braced herself. "You've lost your mind."_

 _"I'm not the who should be dead."_

 _..._

 _"Martha Jones," She could practically feel the smile pulling across his face as he stood in the doorway, poised left._

 _"Doctor." Martha replied as he slowly moved towards her._

 _Rolling her eyes, Amara shot past him after having run through the door. "Martha!" She grinned, bolting over to her friend and practically throwing herself at the woman, hugging her furiously. "Martha Jones."_

 _Laughing, Martha hugged her back enthusiastically, grinning at the Doctor in amusement. "I've missed you too, Mar."_

 _Amara rolled her eyes and pulled away before pulling her into another hug, then stepping away properly to let the Doctor hug her as well. "You haven't changed a bit!" He chuckled, grinning._

 _Martha returned his grin, "Neither have you!"_

 _"How's the family?"_

 _"You know," She shrugged, not saying anything for a moment as she stepped away. "Not so bad, still recovering."_

 _"What about you?" The Doctor added, not noticing that Martha had caught sight of Donna._

 _Amara followed Martha's gaze and saw Donna wandering over; she smiled and ushered the woman over with a smile. "Come on, my number one Temp in all of Chiswick!" She grinned when Donna smiled at her._

 _"Right," Martha paused when she acknowledged Donna properly. She was slightly disappointed, just slightly. "I should have known... didn't take you two very long to replace me."_

 _"Don't be silly, Martha Jones." Amara scoffed, moving to drag Donna over to meet Martha with a wicked grin. "You'll get along famously, just you wait!"_

 _The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment, "No, don't start fighting." He breathed, suddenly uncomfortable._

 _"Right," Amara grinned. "Doctor Martha Jones, Donna Noble, number one Temp in all of Chiswick. Donna Noble, Doctor Martha Jones, the Doctor's doctor and she's brilliant."_

 _"Please don't fight," The Doctor bit out with a wince, "I can't bear fighting."_

 _"Stop being dramatic." Amara chastised with a smirk._

 _"You wish," Donna brushed him off before turning to Martha, holding out her hand. "I've heard all about you, they're always talking about you."_

 _Martha blanched at Donna's words. "I dread to think," She shot Amara a look as she laughed._

 _"No, no, no." Donna shook her head with another soft smile. "They say nice things, good things you know, nice things. Really good things."_

 _"Oh, my God, they've told you_ everything _," Martha's eyes widened in horror as her head whipped over to look at Amara, evidently still embarrassed about recollecting her fawning over the Doctor._

 _Donna smirked, "Didn't take you long to get over it, though." Donna nodded to the ring on her finger. "Who's the lucky man?"_

 _"What man?" The Doctor interjected with a furrowed brow. "Lucky what now?"_

 _"Martha Jones!" Amara flew at her again and hugged her tightly as she wiggled the fingers on her left hand at him, showing off her ring._

 _"Really?" The Doctor smiled. "Who to?"_

 _"Tom." Amara whistled in amusement as the Doctor glanced over at her. "When they give you a phone, you use it. I like to keep in contact with people." She was notorious for calling Martha and Jack just to make sure they were all okay._

 _"He's in paediatrics working out in Africa right now," Martha explained briefly. "And yes, I know, I've got a doctor who disappears off to distant places, tell me about it."_

 _"Is he skinny?" Donna asked suddenly as Amara laughed._

 _"No, he's sort of..." Martha thought for a moment. "Strong."_

 _"He is too skinny for words," Donna pointed at the Doctor. "Right, you give him a hug, you get a paper cut."_

 _The Doctor rolled his eyes when all three of them laughed, "I'd rather you were fighting," he admitted under his breath._

 _Amara rolled her eyes, "I love your hugs, Spaceman." Her heart warmed when he grinned at her._

 _..._

 _She stared at him for a moment, observing his behaviour as he stood there, contemplating his choices. She knew he was planning something. "Spaceman..." She spoke slowly, feeling suddenly anxiously as he grew quiet._

 _"Right, so... well..." Scratching the back of his head, he looked at them all and swallowed thickly. "Donna, thank you. For everything. Martha, you too. Oh, so many times and Luke, do something clever with your life." He trailed off when he looked over at Amara, who was looking down at the floor._

 _Donna gaped, "You're saying goodbye."_

 _The Doctor sighed, "Sontarans are never defeated." He looked her dead in the eye. "They'll be getting ready for war. And you know, I can recalibrate this for Sontaran air, so..."_

 _Martha glanced over at Amara to see her glowering. "You're gonna ignite them, aren't you?"_

 _"You'll kill yourself," Donna cried in outrage._

 _"Just send it on its own. I don't know... put it on a delay."_

 _Amara cleared her throat, finally looking up with a steely gaze. "He's got to give them a choice." He always made everything so hard. "You can't... they're my enemy; I'm the one who should go..."_

 _Setting the converter down, he strode over to her, pulling her to him suddenly, closing the distance before finally pressing his mouth to hers. He reached for her hands to hold them as he held the cuffs in his free one. He kissed her languidly for a several more moments, knowing it would be the only thing to distract her and give him time._

 _With a click, he fastened the cuffs to the metal rod on the wall and stepped away as he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes pained. "I can't lose you..." He bit out, backing away as she fought against the restrains._

 _"And you think this is the way to go about it?" Amara shouted in outrage, crazed as she fought against the handcuffs, not caring if they were cutting into her wrists. "I swear... this is not the solution!"_

 _"I'm sorry," He moved over to the teleport and picked up the converter, hitting a button before he suddenly disappeared._

 _"No, no, no!" Amara exclaimed, nearly pulling her off as she fought with the restraint. "I swear to God if he doesn't come back..." Bracing her foot against the wall, she tried to free herself until she fell to a heap on the floor._

 _"It's just like before," Martha breathed out, clasping her hands over her mouth as she looked over at Donna. "She always put herself before him... it seems he's got smarter about it."_

 _"Doesn't mean it was right, though." Donna countered with a frown._

 _"Martha, if you've got the key just let me have it." Amara bit out, biting her lip._

 _Luke, grimacing, he moved towards the teleport as the two woman tried to console Amara who was fighting the cuffs as best as she could. Running to the pod, he began working on the controls._

 _"What are you doing?" Martha pressed as she tried to help Amara, fighting her as the woman kept yanking herself away from the wall._

 _"Something clever." Luke explained before he pushed a button and disappeared, the Doctor appearing back within the pod._

 _"Give me the bloody key, Martha!" Amara shouted, knowing that out of the lot of them she would have had the handcuffs originally. "WHERE IS THE KEY?!"_

 _The Doctor appeared in the teleport pod, perplexed as he moved to sit on the edge of the pod in relief._

 _Seeing him safely returned, Martha rushed over to hug him as Amara paused in her attempts to free herself, and stared at him, glowering as she clenched her fists. Turning away, she pressed her forehead against the wall and silently cursed herself for becoming so caught up._

 _Unlike Martha, Donna strode over to him a smacked him on the arm as hard as she could. "You idiot." She glared as Amara gripped the railing and yanking, flying from the wall and fall on the floor._

 _Jumping up, the Doctor ran over to her but she was on her feet again in an instant and marching from the room, leaving him stood there with Martha and Donna._

* * *

The Doctor gritted his teeth as Amara screamed again, a light shining from under her eyelids as she strained against the probe's force. "Stop it... Just stop it! _Stop it!_ " He bellowed, almost sobbing when her back went rigid.

Sparks were flying everywhere; electrical ripples hissing all around them as smoke emerged from the probe to rise into the Vault.

"NO!" The Doctor shouted, lunging at the cell wall, pelting with the slamming of his palms in outrage, kicking as more smoke gathered.

"Let me go!" The Doctor struggled the holding cell, attacking it in any way he was able, desperate to get to Amara. "What've you done?!" He demanded, panicking.

Davros laughed, wheeling around to the look at Doctor. "The last children of Gallifrey are powerless."

The Doctor paled considerably, his eyes focused on Amara as the sparks became more aggressive. His hands curled into fists, shaking with rage, as he started pounding on the cell again.

* * *

 _"Throw him out!" Sky ordered, pointing over to where Amara stood in front of the Doctor, ready to fight off Biff and the Professor if she needed to._

 _"Throw him out!"_

 _Sky smirked. "Get rid of him!"_

 _"Get rid of him!"_

 _"Now!" Sky stared after Amara as she held her gaze firmly, her face contorting devilishly from where she stood across the shuttle._

 _"Now!"_

 _"Don't you dare!" Amara growled as Biff moved to grab the Doctor, his hands moving to push her only to jolt backwards when he was met with a static shock._

 _Staggering back in surprise, Biff looked at her accusingly. "What in..." The group stationed behind him fell silent as Biff braced himself against a chair, the shock ricocheted again, forcing him back further._

 _"I don't want to do this, don't make me... If I have to, I_ will _hurt you." Amara declared as she knelt beside the Doctor while he remained frozen in time, so isolated and lost. Helpless. Terrified. Alone. Placing her hands on the chairs, she looked at the group again. "You_ won't _touch him."_

 _Biff froze, hesitating as he glanced back at his wife. "If you're not careful, we'll be throwing you out as well!" Val exclaimed, starting towards her._

 _"Val, be reasonable..." Amara warned lowly, her eyes falling upon the dishevelled woman for a moment._

 _"Throw them both out!" Val countered, pointing accusingly at both the Doctor and Amara. "Get rid of them both!"_

 _Pale, Biff staggered forwards, "Professor, help me!" Biff hollered, bracing himself as the Professor hesitated in his movements._

 _Shifting on his feet, the Professor seemed conflict. "I can't..." Hobbes murmured, utterly terrified at the prospect of condemning another's life. "I… I- I'm not…"_

 _"Professor, you're a good man..." Amara called him over to her with a soft smile before gesturing to the Doctor behind her. "So is he."_

 _Glancing over at him, Biff scoffed at him. "What sort of man are you?" He glared at him darkly. "Come on!"_

 _"Get them!" Val continued with her onslaught of demands, growing more hysteric with each passing moment. "Throw them out!"_

 _"Come on!" Biff pulled the Professor along with him as they stumbled, hitting a row of chairs, sending shocks through the pair of them._

 _Jethro, who had retreated to the back of shuttle with hostess, stared in horror as Amara's eyes became illuminated with an arctic glow, ghostly and fierce. "Look..." He murmured, paralysed where he stood._

 _"Just do it, throw them out!" Val encouraged, rushing forward to help the two men until a static charge rippled to hit her leg, causing her to shout and freeze._

 _Holding Sky's gaze, Amara composed herself as she steadily climbed to her feet. Her head was buzzing, hissing away as she stared at Sky. Staring at whatever possessed her. Her head was vibrating. She still had no clue what the bloody thing was... but she wouldn't stop, not until her Spaceman was safe and sound._

 _"What are you?" The hostess demanded in outrage, shifting on her feet but making no certain moved to help._

 _"The help! I'd strongly advise you to..." Amara paused, feeling her mental barriers dissolving more fluidly. She swallowed thickly. Only one outcome. "Look at yourselves! Look at what she's done to you! You are not murderers, you're good people!"_

 _"Get him out!"_

 _"Cast him out!" Sky hold Amara's gaze firmly as she moved down the aisle, taunting Amara._

 _"Cast him out!" the Doctor repeated, his back turned on the commotion thankfully, but no less trapped._

 _"I want him out!" Val exclaimed._

 _"That's not going to happen because it's in her!" Amara ground out, feeling something shift within her mental barriers, her hand shaking slightly. It was fizzling away inside her head, like an angry swarm of bees after their hive had been shaken. Steadying herself, Amara chanced the trust of the others in the group, and moved forwards._

 _"Oh my God!" Dee Dee hands clamped over her mouth when she saw the light shining through Amara's eyes, almost blinding to witness as she pressed herself against the back of the shuttle._

 _"I liked Sky; she was a nice woman." Amara told the vessel firmly as the others cowered beside them. Whatever was in Sky had to leave the shuttle, and promptly. Stalling could work. "And for the sake of her memory, you won't harm anyone else."_

 _Val, however, had her own ideas and tried again, "_ Do it! _" The woman rushed forwards as Amara caught her, forcing her back into Biff's arms immediately._

 _Since she'd been shocked by Richard Lazarus's Genetic Manipulation Device, her Electro-direction hadn't been as dormant as it once was, something she hated to acknowledge. Something within her had triggered, enabling her to draw and harness power from internal electrical impulses._

 _Biff and Hobbes were gaining ground with Val jeering them on as Sky aided, smirking. Thankfully, Jethro, Dee Dee and the Hostess hadn't taken up arms against herself and the Doctor. As she stared at the oncoming onslaught, she was oddly reminded of the war. Except there would be no condemned fate. In this chaos, there will be safety. And that never happens by accident. "Forgive me," Amara muttered to herself._

 _Rushing forwards, she threw Biff out of the way and forced Hobbes into a chair when she directed a hand towards the nearest door to the shuttle as a static charge shot out from the tips of fingers into the system tripping it while her hands landed on Sky's shoulders, shocking the body as the door was hauled along, revealing the blinding light of the landscape. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus... hanc animam redintegro..." Amara recited, helpless as she forced the woman towards the entrance door which sucked her out before the emergency system slammed it shut again._

 _Breathing deeply, Amara closed her eyes. She knew she should have never have watched the Exorcist with Jack, but she still murdered someone... Behind her, the group had ceased in their commotion as she looked around at them, surveyed those involved for a long moment._

" _I'm sorry!" Val threw herself down onto the floor as Amara's eyes found her, the light behind her eyes dying into nothing. "We didn't mean to... we were so scared..." She begged, cowering down as Biff her in his arms._

 _Amara frowned before kneeling beside the woman, offering her hand. Cautiously, Val took it and Amara quickly pulled her into her arms. "It's all right to be scared, but never let that fear overpower your sense of judgement and control you. A woman is dead because you condemned another's life. That is_ never _okay." She pulled away and settled Val back against Biff. "You were scared, and she made you angry. Fear turns to anger, anger to hate, hate to suffering."_

 _Biff stared at her, "Who said that?"_

 _"Yoda." Amara smiled sadly as the use of the Star Wars reference. Looking between the Professor and Dee Dee, Jehtro and the Hostess, she sighed. " Look, you're not bad people, I know that. You just made the wrong choice because you were scared. You had every right to be scared."_

 _"But your eyes..." Jethro spoke slowly, edging forward. "I saw them..._ change _."_

 _"Me too." Dee Dee stepped to his side._

 _Amara nodded, suddenly wincing as she met her knees, doubling over. "Yeah, they do that." Gritting her teeth, she sucked in a sharp breath as she felt the barriers of her mind mending, locking away that wrongful capability._

 _Gasping for breath, the Doctor shot up, his limbs flying. "It's gone, it's gone..." He repeated breathlessly, frowning for a moment as he realised that Amara must have done something. "'Mara?" Rolling over, his eyes widened as he skidded over to her, worry enveloping him._

 _"We didn't do anything!" Val shouted in protest._

 _Amara smiled at the woman, "No, you didn't."_

 _As he reached over, he immediately pulled her to him, turning her over in his arms before propping her up against the wall. "'Mara, what did you do?" He gently wiped strands of hair away from her face, gazing down at her for a moment. "What happened? 'Mar... what did you do..."_

 _She smiled when she felt him stroking the side of her face. "A revolt," She breathed, her eyes trailing over to Val for a moment, not hostility lurking with her unusually warm eyes. "Of brave people." She laid her head against his chest, rousing a sigh of relief from within him._

 _Despite feeling better, she knew the safest thing to do would be to get herself checked over, just to make sure there was no damage. He always seemed to bring out the worst in her, and those poor people had to face the brunt of it._

 _But the Doctor was too lost in his own thoughts. There she was before him, his Amara, always taking such good care of him –_ _he thought too much, he knew that he didn't deserve it –_ _she was always there, the other half he always needed to balance him out. "_ _And though she be but little, she is fierce_ _." He hummed in thought as she smiled._

 _"Too right, Spaceman."_

 _He observed her slightly parted lips, his hands still caressing her face as he found himself suddenly compelled by her, knowing – as she always been – the most precious thing in universe. He tipped her chin so she was looking into his eyes, she needed to be watching him as he spoke. "I'm so sorry, 'Mara... I'm an idiot; I've been wrong about so many things."_

 _Amara stared at him and he noticed the evident tears swimming in her eyes. He wanted to kiss her, to love her, to... He was shocked by the sudden desire that moved within him just then, filling him, consuming him. He felt like he was going to burst._

 _"Oi, you're fine, I'm fine..." She breathed, smiling slightly when she saw the look in his eyes. "We're always fine, Spaceman."_

 _He stared at her lips that he felt like a fetishist, loving the way her mouth formed 'Spaceman' and 'we're'... he was her Spaceman, and loved that she had a claim on him. It made his hearts swell. But he didn't know what he wanted: to kiss her or to keep running. But he had always been good at the running, and he liked running. But he liked Amara more._

 _Rolling her eyes, Amara shifted slightly but made no movement to leave his arms. "Always running... you never stop to actually consider what you're running from." She frowned at him for a moment, "Do you even look behind?"_

 _"I..." The Doctor struggled, closing his eyes in defeat. "Please, 'Mara... I don't..." he pleaded._

 _"You act as though you're lonely," Amara told him firmly. "I try my best with that, but you, you're too bloody stubborn and it's exhausting. I'm tired."_

 _"Please… don't get tired of me."_

 _"You are the most frustrating man..." Amara marvelled, wincing as her head made some more internally adjusting. "I don't know what you want, what you_ really _want that is... Is this some sort of punishment? Are you condemning yourself?"_

 _Her words hurt him because they besought the truth. "You don't necessarily deserve what you want, Amara."_

 _"Whatever, Spaceman." She sighed, closing her eyes, breaking their eye contact. "Your issue is that you don't try."_

 _"'Mara," He breathed out, forcing her to look at him. "_ _The things I want... people will get hurt. I don't want that." The Doctor told her, knowing the plight was pathetic. He deserved what he wanted. "Everything moves on without me, Amara._ Always _. I always lose everything."_

 _Amara clenched her jaw, "What is there to lose?"_

 _"You."_

 _She smiled at his answer, "I'm right here, Space Cowboy."_

 _The Doctor smiled in reply, "It's not_ that _simple, 'Mara." He sighed as he looked at her; she looked more weathered than when he'd first met. Their adventures had taken their toll, travelling with him and yet, unlike the others, she was still there._

 _"It_ is _simple." Amara moved her hand to press it against his chest, between his two hearts as his other came to hold hers there. "I can wait."_

 _..._

 _"No!" Jenny exclaimed suddenly, pushing past the Doctor and Amara as a shot rang out. Jenny pushed Amara out of the way as Cobb fired, hitting her square in the chest, causing her to fall backwards into the Doctor's arms._

 _Amara's eyes widened, "Jenny!" She shouted as the Doctor fell to the ground with Jenny cradled in his arms, the other soldiers tackling Cobb to retrieve his gun. "Jenny! Talk to me, Jenny!"_

 _Martha knelt down and began to check her. "Is she going to be all right?" Donna asked Martha, who gave a solemn shake of her head._

 _Martha dropped to the floor beside them, checking her over as Amara collected the gun, holding it firmly and recalling a very similar feeling from the war._

 _"A new world," Jenny breathed out in marvel, looking up at the gas. "It's so beautiful..."_

 _Amara knelt beside her, reaching for her hand. "You need to hold on just a little longer, all right? Jenny?"_

 _"We've got things to do." The Doctor told her softly, "You, 'Mara and me. Hey? We can go anywhere; everywhere... you choose."_

 _Jenny smiled, nodding slightly as she looked at their faces. "That sounds good."_

 _"You're my daughter and we've only just got started."_

 _Amara bit her lip, "You're going to be great, just you watch."_

 _The Doctor smiled sadly, "You'll be more than that... you'll be amazing." His smile faded slightly, "Jenny?"_

 _Jenny managed a smile, squeezing Amara's hand before her eyes closed and her last breath passed her lips, her head rolling into the crook of the Doctor's arm. Pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead, the Doctor reached for Amara pulled him under her other arm._

 _"Two hearts. Two hearts, she's like us," He looked at Amara with hope blazing within his eyes, "If we wait... if we just wait..." He glanced over at Martha but she shook her head at him._

 _"There's no sign, Doctor. There is no regeneration. She's like you, but... maybe not enough."_

 _"No," He breathed out, pressing his forehead against Amara's as she turned to kiss his cheek. "Too much. That's the truth of it. She was too much like me."_

 _..._

 _"So, what do we do with_ this _one?" Jack demanded, cuffing the Master in one swift movement as he looked over at the Doctor, hoping for him to confirm the monster's fate._

 _"We_ kill _him!" Mr. Jones declared, striding forwards as Amara pushed through Martha's family to stand between them and the Master._

 _Amara clenched her jaw. "No, Clive."_

 _"We_ execute _him." Tish added, moving to stand beside her father._

 _"No, that's_ never _a choice." Amara frowned them, pausing when she saw Martha's mother lifting a gun in threat. "No." She warned, backing away towards the Master. She would die before they killed him; no more would die at the sake of a Time Lord._

 _"That's not the solution," The Doctor added, stepping forwards in concern, more because the gun was aimed at both Amara and the Master._

 _"Oh, I think so..." Mrs. Jones slowly moved towards them, holding the gun with both hands despite her shaky grasp. That only increased Amara's worry. "Because all those things... they still happened because of him. I_ saw _them."_

 _Raising her hands in defence, Amara shook her head and held her gaze, hoping that with the right amount of persuasion she would change her mind. "Francine, it's better to save a life rather than take one."_

 _The Doctor winced, rushing over to her and immediately offering her some support. She'd been chained up for nearly a year because of him, and she was acting as though it had never occurred. "'Mara, you shouldn't... are you all right?" He couldn't help but wrap an arm around her waist to keep her upright, although she seemed healthier than he had seen for a long while._

 _Amara sent him a terse smile, not wanting him to worry. "Oh, I'm alive and kicking." The pain was still there, lurking beneath the surface, unseen. It had never left._

 _"Enough with the poetry. Go on!" the Master jeered, fighting Jack as he grinned. "_ Do it! _"_

 _"Stop it." Amara reprimanded, glowering at him as she stalked over to him, wanting nothing more than to slap him into sense. "Stop trying to be all mighty and brave. It's not going to work this time, this is not the war." If the Doctor was to discover the complete truth, then there was no point in running from the truth._

 _"You're doing the look again. Always the look." He scoffed, writhing as Jack held onto him tightly. "You killed me once! You sent me away! You signed my death sentence!"_

 _Amara stared at him plainly. "I tried to save you." She had, there was no lie in that but of course, Rassilon had her removed and had cut off all ties._

 _"But you didn't!"_

 _"Francine, you're better than him," The Doctor tried to reason with Martha's mother, reaching out to retrieve the gun, pulling her into a hug as Martha moved towards them. He paused in realisation once he'd registered the Master's words, glancing back over at Amara and the Master in concern. "Wait... what?" He'd blamed her... had he missed something?_

 _Ignoring the Doctor, Amara directed her attention back over to the Master. "I tried to help, you know that." She pleaded with him, feeling the regret crawling within her. It had been her fault, but she never wanted Rassilon to abuse his authority of him._

 _"Not hard enough." He spat, stepping towards her despite being cuffed, his eyes shining in pure fury. "You still haven't answered the question," The Master looked over at the Doctor with an expectant look. "What happens to me?"_

 _"You're my responsibility from now on," The Doctor explained, shoving his hands into his pockets as he wandered over towards the Time Lord, frowning slightly. "The only Time Lord left in existence."_

 _The Master laughed, glancing between the Doctor and Amara for a moment before he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, he still doesn't know? Oh, the dim-witted Doctor... dense Doctor." He laughed again, practically howling as a sneer formed. "How disappointing. How thick. How..._ slow _."_

 _Sighing, Amara ignored the look thrown her way by the Doctor so she could face the Master again. "Stop it." Amara gritted her teeth in annoyance as she glowered over at him._

 _"You can't trust him," Jack scoffed, moving towards the Doctor, eyeing Amara and the Master as the two engaged in a stare off. "I hate to say it, but you both sound insane!"_

 _Running a hand over her face, Amara sent Jack a sympathetic look. "Look, what he did..."_

 _"No," The Doctor acknowledged simply, sighing as he came to a conclusion. "The only safe place for him is the TARDIS." He announced gravely._

 _"You mean you're just going to… keep me?" the Master frowned, turning around to face the Doctor in outrage, a slow-burning fury of realisation._

 _The Doctor nodded solemnly. "If that's what I have to do," He looked over at Jack and sighed once more. He didn't really have much of a choice; he couldn't be responsible for allowing the Master hurt anyone else."It's time to change. Maybe I've been wandering for too long... now I'll have someone to care for."_

 _Scowling, the Master turned back to Amara and sneered. "Is this what you wanted? To see me as a pet?" He demanded, thrashing against Jack so his grip loosened, allowing him to slip free to stalk over to her. "You made me a pet! You're just as bad as he was!" He spat, mere inches from her face._

 _"I never wanted that, and you know it." Amara exclaimed, utterly furious as a gunshot rang through the air._

 _The Doctor spun around see the Master collapsing in Amara's arms, his legs giving out beneath him as they sunk to the floor together. "No, no..." Amara's brain fizzled into a frenzy of panic as he slumped heavily into her arms just as Jack reached Lucy, seizing the gun from her hands._

 _Skidding across the floor, the Doctor rushed to his side and pulled the Master into his arms despite the incredulous look he received from Amara by doing so. "There you go. I've got you, I've got you." He murmured as he lowered the Master to the floor as Amara knelt beside him, feeling the guilt tugging in the pit of her stomach just like the last time._

 _"Always the women." He muttered in disgust, his eyes trailing to Amara._

 _"I didn't see her." The Doctor admitted, bowing his own head in guilt at having not intervened with Lucy._

 _"Dying in your arms." His eyes flew to the Doctor, a smile smirk tugging at his lips. "Happy now?"_

 _The Doctor scoffed, adjusting his hold on the other Time Lord, "You're_ not _dying, don't be stupid..." He swallowed thickly, knowing that by the way the Master was speaking, something was about to happen. Something he'd have no control over. "It's only a bullet. Just regenerate."_

 _"No."_

 _Amara blinked. "No?" She repeated slowly as the Master clenched his jaw._

 _"One little bullet. Come on."_

 _"I guess you don't know me so well. I_ refuse _."_

 _Confused, the Doctor spared a glance at Amara who was staring as the Master with a thoughtful look. "Regenerate." His voice broke as Amara closed her eyes, looking down. "Just regenerate. Please!_ Please! Just regenerate! _Come on!"_

 _"And spend the rest of my life imprisoned with you?" The Master scoffed in disbelief before his eyes trailed to Amara. "This is all your fault, Kliavia."_

 _The Doctor frowned, looking up at Amara. "Kliavia?" He asked quietly._

 _Sitting back on her knees, Amara's shoulders fell - there was no way he was going to regenerate because it was what the Doctor wanted. "For God's sake, just regenerate." Amara had started to panic; undoubtedly it was her fault, she'd forced him to go to Arcadia and to fight, and to go against Rassilon. The Master hadn't been wrong there._

 _"I'm not being anyone's prisoner. You made me Rassilon's..." The Master stared at her as Amara rose to her feet, turning away. He looked over at the Doctor, smiling at the tears in his eyes. "No regeneration."_

 _"You've got to. Come on..." The Doctor shook his head profusely, refusing to believe that after everything, he was willing to die. "It can't end like this. You and me, all the things we've done... Axons? Remember the Axons? And the Daleks?" He asked, his voice shaking as it continued to break. "We're the only two left, there's no one else. Regenerate!"_

 _"How about that?" The Master smiled slightly, holding his gaze firmly. "I win." Something shifted in his eyes as he regarded the other Time Lord, his smile softening as he stared at him. "Will it stop, Doctor? The drumming. Will it stop?" The Master let out a final shuddering breath as he lolled into the crook of the Doctor's arm._

 _Running her hands through her hair, she held her head in her hands for a moment, overwhelmed with the sudden regret at having made the Master what he was. A part of her told her that she wasn't responsible for the madness, but she hadn't aided him, she had probed the madness and manipulated him during the war. Maddened, she kicked the nearest chair as it tumbled over, rubbing a hand over her face until her face contorted in a sudden wince._

 _Stepping forward, Jack noticed how rigid Amara had grown, how her body had stilled in the moment she turned away from them. "Lady K, you good?"_

 _Grateful her back was turned, Amara glanced down and pressed a hand to her top to find blood. "I'm good." She wheeled around, her hands clasped behind her back as her eyes found the Doctor still kneeling with the Master in his arms, tears strewn across his face._

 _Rising to his feet, the Doctor straightened himself out. "What did he mean when he said it was '_ your fault _'?" His brows furrowed as he replayed the Master's words over in his mind, finding the entire exchange rather odd._

 _"You know why." Amara told him quietly, another look of sympathy crossing her face. She knew that deep down he'd always known, he just never chose to acknowledge it. "I'm sorry. I really am sorry, but I just…I…"_

 _Moving towards her cautiously, the Doctor stared for a moment before he pulled her towards him so she was stood so close. Hesitating, he leaned forward to press his hands against the centre of her chest, his eyes widening when he felt her hearts beating away._

 _Pulling away, he frowned, utterly perplexed and feeling somewhat betrayed. "Why didn't you tell me?" His eyes fell upon the necklace on her chest as he reached for the object, fiddling with it absently. "Why..." He breathed, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he looked up at her._

 _Amara sighed, removing the filter from the back of the necklace. "There's no need for it anyway... not now at least." She admitted, avoiding his gaze to stare at the ground in torment. "I was followed by what remained... Earth isn't always the safe haven it appears to be. I was hunted."_

 _He stared at her for another moment, a glint of realisation dawning in his eyes. "I know you." He did, he recognised her from the past. He couldn't be sure how he knew her, but her face now revealed to him, was entirely familiar._

 _"Thank God, otherwise this would have been entirely awkward."_

 _"What would be awkward?" He frowned deeply, tilting his head in question._

 _Amara laughed, "_ Awkward _," She mused, staring at him for a moment as she contemplated a possible explanation. Wincing suddenly, she stepped away from him, sucking in a sharp breath. "Wait, what?_ No... _" She glancing down and pressed her hand against her side again to see the blood stain far more vivid. She also figured the wounds on her back wouldn't make matters any simpler._ Definitely not a superficial job... _"Oh, that would explain it."_

 _Looking down at her hand and spotted the blood stain on her hand, he stared towards her, panic taken over at the fear of losing another. "What's wrong?" He demanded in a fresh hysteria, his eyes wide._

 _"You need to step back." Amara instructed softly as she pulled her hand away from her chest to reveal the limb glowing faintly, a dim golden shade glittering through the cells of her skin. "Nants ingonyama bagithi baba. Sithi uhhmm ingonyama..." She smiled slightly at everyone's perplexed expressions, finding their evident concern somewhat flattering. Evidently the Lion King wouldn't lighten the mood._ Don't make jokes when regenerating...

 _When she winced again, Martha sprang to life, moving to rush over to her friend. "'Mara!" She was about to touch her but paused when the Doctor pushed her away out of reflex._

 _"No. Stay back." Amara stepped away, holding her hand as it continued to glow, biting her lip as Martha came to a sharp halt. She sucked in another breath, doubling over at the energy rippled through her, surging to set her right. "Bugger it..." Standing straight, she held her breath and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger." She damned Boe for having been right... of course, the Master would be the one to show the Doctor who she truly was._

 _"You alright, Mar?" Jack called, moving forward slowly._

 _"Debata... ah..." Amara trailed off, cringing at the movement within her body, holding out her hand to see the skin glowing an amber radiance._

 _"Amara..." Martha's hands flew to her mouth, a sob passing through her lips._

 _Her eyes searched the room until they found Martha, biting the inside of her cheek as the woman made to move again. Amara held out her glowing hand to stop her. "Martha Jones, don't cry." She knew the poor woman was breaking but she couldn't help her, if the process was interrupted, inevitable death would ensue and there was no way to transfer the energy. "You were great. The best doctor the Doctor ever had, the kindness person I ever met. You helped save the world. Look at all you've achieved..." Amara trailed off again as she felt tears welling in her eyes for Martha's sake as she stood opposite her. "There's nothing to cry over. I'll still be me, I'll just look different... not too much I hope."_

 _The Doctor stepped forwards, gulping as he gravitated nearer. "I can stay with you." He grabbed the hand she held out towards Martha, pulling himself towards her. "I'm not leaving you..."_

 _Squeezing his hands, Amara wedged her fingers free from his hold. "Let go, Spaceman." He paused at her use of the name and she smiled softly._ " _I liked this face. Not the hair, never the hair. Ugh, the hair. Horrible hair."_

 _"You can't!" Martha fought through Jack's arms as he held her back._

 _"Don't worry about me."_

 _Sucking in a deep breath as her breathing became more ragged, golden energy swirled around her aggressively. Consumed, her arms glittered golden as she sat on her knees, her arms open as she threw her head back._

 _Jack stared, evidently confused as he found his friend looking very much the same as she did before. "But you're the same... how's that even possible?"_

 _"I know." Amara commented thoughtfully, her eyes widening suddenly at the sound of her own voice. "Oh, no wait... new voice." She grimaced as the considerably normal tone in contrast to the previous which had been northern. "_ Disgusting _. I sound all posh and proper. Bear with me... Good morning, Vietnam!" She exclaimed, testing out her new set of lungs, causing Jack to laugh at her antics._

 _Francine wandered forward, frowning as she came to stand just behind the Doctor. "What's going on?" She sounded scared as she turned to look at her daughter, worried by the severity of her reaction and the tears falling from her eyes. "This isn't funny."_

 _"It's only partial at the moment." The Doctor informed them, his voice oddly quiet and lacking his usual assurance. "She's only healed..."_

 _"Sorry." Amara apologised, running a hand through her hair. "Love a catch-phrase, though. This one's a bit posh._ Innit _."_

 _"What is going on?" Tish questioned, her hands on her hips as she demanded to be answered. "I just wanna go home."_

 _Amara sighed, hitting the area where she had been shot, hoping to kick start a reaction. Coughing, she doubled over and gestured to Lucy as the radiance trailed up to her neck, gaining strength. "She shot her husband, and incidentally, me too. My body was all "_ oh no _". All Chic, y'know_ "Le freak - freak out!"" _She gestured with her hands, laughing nervously as she felt herself becoming even more consumed. "Cue the magic."_

 _Biting his lip, the Doctor tried to reach for her hands again, wanting to help her as the once dim golden glow grew into a forceful amber glower, shimmering in all its radiance, persevering as he firmly grasped her wrists and closed the distance between them. "Please... let me..."_

 _Jack's eyes widened as he saw Amara resign all effort in refusing the Doctor to persistence to stay with her. No way was the Time Lord going to abandon her after having just lost the Master. "Just..." He readjusted his hold on Martha, grabbing Francine's hand and he pulled them back. "Everyone stay back 'til it's over."_

 _Looking at their joined hands, Amara steadied her breathing, looking past the Doctor gradually until her gaze fell upon Jack when she mouthed 'thank you'. "Listen to Captain Sexy." Never would she pass up the opportunity to try and make Captain Jack Harkness blush._

 _Frowning, the Doctor eyed her frantically as he felt his concern rise within him. Regenerations never usually took this long... it had only been a bullet wound, she should have been fit as a fiddle by now. "It shouldn't be this slow..." He pulled her closer, inspecting her hands as they held his. He couldn't figure it out; it didn't make any sense. He gulped. "Something's wrong." He assumed, trying to pull her closer towards him._

 _Amara smiled at him gently, maintaining their distance as she held him at arm's length. "Mental barriers need to be broken down, so it'll probably..." She sucked in another shape breath, using his hands to brace herself as the glow grew stronger still. "Get volatile."_

 _"Mental barriers?"_

 _"Spaceman, there's a lot you don't know about me." Amara hummed, her eyes shining as she felt the seams of her mind ripple open, unwoven at her own desire_

 _He gripped her hands tighter, holding her gaze. "I want to know." He didn't want to be alone anymore; he didn't want her to hide herself from him anymore. He didn't want her to run away, or for her to lie to him. He wanted her to trust him, to tell him the things he didn't know, to tell him everything was all right... he didn't want to be alone. He wanted to share his little world with her; he wanted her to join him in travelling. Forever didn't seem so bad when there's two._

 _"And you will."_

 _The Doctor nodded, somewhat satisfied with her answer, knowing that she wouldn't leave him in the lurch. Amara kept her word, he knew he could trust her._

 _"It's starting..." She murmured as her whole body was engulfed in the amber hue, the pain raking through her body, practically ripped her apart from the inside out as her fingers coiled around his wrists, digging into the skin beneath each finger. "Apologies for this..."_

 _"Wha..." The Doctor crumpled to the floor when a sudden shock of static jolted every cell in his body, his knees buckling as they met the floor._

 _The glow exploded from within her, her head thrown back as the light emitted shockingly, blinding everyone in the room as her eyes, ghostly and unsettling, glowing a furious screen of blue as static impulses crackled, hissing through the golden beams as the energy was released simultaneously._

 _When the light finally dimmed, she caught the Doctor as he fell forward into her arms. "I did tell you not to, Spaceman." She murmured as he looked up at her, his eyes scanning her face silently, pausing in slight surprise. Climbing to her feet, she helped him to stand carefully, watching him to see if he was all right. "Are you all right?"_

 _"I'm perfectly fine." He answered, dropping her hands to step away, brushing himself down._ Electro-direction? _He'd only ever seen one person ever do that, and that had been..._

 _"Oi, Lady K!" Jack called, drawing her attention. "You look smokin'."_

 _Amara's brow furrowed at the comment, wondering how different her new appearance actually was to the previous one. "Good." Frowning, she ran her tongue along the bottom row of teeth, finding the sensation she was met with odd and slightly uncomfortable. "Oh, n- new teeth... New teeth?_ New teeth _." Amara exclaimed, biting her teeth together so they made a chomping sound until she saw each and every one of them eyeing her curiously. "What's wrong? Is it the hair? It feels longer..." She ran her hands through it and sighed in relief when it felt longer than it had been, chestnut and decent enough. "Is it longer? It's not blonde which is a good thing. You sure I'm not a lion? Feels bit like a mane." She smiled when she saw the Doctor smile slightly._

 _Martha's family were scared; she was attempting to lighten the mood by cracking jokes and trying to be light-hearted which, unfortunately, seemed to be failing nonetheless. Glancing over at Martha, she frowned when she saw her friend staring at her, looking rather lost and dazed at the person stood in front of her. "Oh. I'm still me, Martha." Amara smiled at her as she removed herself from Jack's grasp, wandering forwards cautiously. "Just an upgrade."_

 _Once Martha had reached her, she stared at for a moment, frowning. She sounded like Amara, she spoke like Amara and she moved like Amara but she didn't look like her. She didn't know what to think. It was so overwhelming. Tilting her head, Martha reached up and... poked her right cheek with her forefinger. Again and again. Four times._

 _Amara stared at her incredulously before smiling slightly. "I'll poke you in a minute, Jones."_

 _"Sorry," Martha stepped away, finding she couldn't help but stare at Amara, more in awe than shock after having witnessed such a transformation. Was this what the Master was supposed to do? "It's just going to get some getting used to."_

 _"Don't I get a hug?" She pouted, holding her arms out in offering as the woman eyed her cautiously. "I could use a hug. A hug would be wonder..." She smiled when she felt Martha fling her arms around her neck, almost suffocating her as she did so, holding her tightly. "There we go."_

 _..._

 _Her feet were planted in a field of red grass which swayed in which direction the next explosion sounded, blades of grass illuminated equally by the suns and the light of explosions in the distance._

 _Her hearts broke as she saw them, Dalek vessels and TARDISes falling from the sky like the shooting stars she dreamed off._

 _People were running, screaming, dying, and she, the Lady, was utterly helpless. Tears burned her eyes as her hearts ached at the mere sight. She yearned to end all the suffering, but she knew she would only create more._

 _Rassilon disgusted her. Her mother informed her that Rassilon, corruption at its finest, planned to take the Time Lords to abandon everything to leave Gallifrey at the hands of the children of Skaro. She couldn't stand aside and watch him commit genocide, watch as worlds burned, as millions died._

 _She stood, watching as her world burned around her. She didn't know what to do._

 _"It's the Lady!" a voice called out._

 _She glanced around to see a small boy with matted hair, bleeding, leading a small group of two others who appeared to have been hiding. Kneeling down to their level, she frowned. "What you still doing here?"_

 _"They're looking for you everywhere... the Daleks and Time Lords." She inspected the wound on the boy's arm, frowning at how severe it was._ _"Please help us," His eyes were so wide with hope and brimming with tears that she didn't know what to say for a moment. She couldn't leave them there._

 _"There's nothing I can do."_

 _"You're just like them..." The same child spoke, "You're just another one of them."_

 _Her hearts constricted as she stared at them all. She couldn't leave him, she couldn't... she wouldn't... "Quickly... come on." She lifted the boy into her arms and ushered the others in front of her._

 _Kliavia blanched when she saw no available cover. Nothing. Not even any debris. She glanced down at the children and swallowed thickly. "Right, we're going to need to run and you all need to stay close to me. That is very important." She chanced a glance up at the sky. "When I say run, we run. Understood?"_

 _They all nodded in unison and she stole another glance at the sky, steadying herself. "Run."_

 _She sprinted, despite knowing the children would struggled to keep up, but she need to get to her TARDIS. She held the boy to her as she closed the distance between herself and the TARDIS. Hands frantically shaking, she rooted around for the key, panicking when she couldn't find it in its rightful._

 _Placing the boy on the ground, she checked everywhere else until she retrieved the key and went to force it into the lock. The key pinged off and landed in the grass somewhere._

 _Staring at the bloody thing, she tried to touch the door but her hand caused an unseen force field to ripple. "No..." She muttered, her eyes maddened as she slammed her fists against it in protest. "Bugger... Right, we have to go back. Is that understood?"_

 _Spinning around on her heel and saw the three children looking at her, hesitant as she ran back over to them, pushing them along as they all broke out into a run._

 _Suddenly she was thrown as a once distance whistle grew nearer and nearer. The blast hit her, deafening her as her body hit the field around the TARDIS. Struggling, her vision grew darker and darker, black spots clouding what she could until only flames danced before she slipped into unconsciousness._

 _Not long after, they were leading her into the Council Chamber where the High Council sat with Rassilon at the head of it, regarding her with a smile while she scolded them all, making eye contact with each and every one of them before each of them turned away._

 _"Why?" Kliavia hissed, her eyes glowing hazardously as they finally found Rassilon. "Why would you do that?"_

 _"If you would just- "_

 _But Kliavia wouldn't listen, "What did you do to my TARDIS? Why would you keep me out?!"_

 _"That is something you should not have," Rassilon reminded, his tone commanding as his voice echoed through the chamber. "We need your support in this."_

 _"_ _Murderer_ _." Kliavia spat. "You've condemned us all." Her face contorted in anger as she charged at the table, causing members to leap from their chambers as several guards only just managed to restrain her._

 _"Is that a no?" Rassilon sighed, rolling his eyes. "A pity... You would have been so useful to our cause. Take the Lady Kliavia to one of the cells, announce her a traitor to Gallifrey."_

 _She didn't fight, and allowed herself to be pushed and pulled as she was led along. She'd failed in her life's mission. They dragged her across several levels, up stairs and across floors until they reached an archway with a sealed metal door._

 _Suddenly she heard two thuds behind her and she turned to see the guards sprawled upon the floor as a woman stood above them. "Mother?" She breathed, her voice cracked, breaking as she spoke._

 _"You haven't got long." She told her sternly. "You better leave." Kliavia shook her head, reluctant. "Look at you... you're so much more than I will ever be. I have played my part." She caressed her face for a moment, smiling softly. "You're going to need to move quickly, they'll know it was me, so don't waste this chance. Get yourself out."_

 _She gaped at her mother for a few moments before she was pushed into the door. And she did what she vowed she would never do. She ran._

 _Shout echoed behind her and she knew they were coming for her. And she wanted to let them take her away, but she couldn't be trapped with her mother. She would have been for nothing otherwise._

 _Brow furrowed as she approached her TARDIS, she dropped to the floor and began searching for the key that had been thrown from her hand until she spotted a glint within the long grass. She grabbed the key firmly and forced it into the lock, turning as she fell through the door, rolled and allowed the door to click shut._

 _"It's over," She concluded, her tone grave and completely broken. "We've lost."_

 _..._

 _Peering through the TARDIS door, Amara frowned for a moment, glancing back at Donna who was on the phone to her grandfather. "Fit as a fiddle again, all good- "_

 _What she hadn't expected was to see the Doctor racing to meet her as he bounded down the rapt, practically pulling her off her feet as he swung her back and forth, rejoicing in knowing she was safe._

 _He nuzzled into her neck, tightening his hold on her as he realised he never wanted to let her go again, never wanted to give her up... He paused though, when he could smell himself on her, lurking somewhat hidden. "Never do that again."_

 _"No way was I going to let them do anything to you," She breathed, looking up at him, her lips parted. "Humans and their miss-communications..."_

 _She wound her arms around his neck while his held her firmly against his chest, his eyes clenched shut as he buried his face in her hair. "I almost lost you again."_ _Her breath on his neck were causing stirrings within him. It had been a very long time since he'd held someone so close for longer than a hug. He always tried to put a distance between them, but he could see it. He had seen it for ages, and had done nothing to stop it. He was too attached to her, he was in love, he knew that. He wasn't stupid._

 _He felt her laugh against him, "I'm still here, Spaceman." Her fingers rubbed his back, her hold tightening even more around him. "There's no getting rid of me apparently."_

 _He wanted to believe her. Desperately. But she was always sacrificing herself, and he wasn't sure he could handle it again. He didn't want to be alone again. But he could take comfort in holding her, warm, alive and hugging him back. In his arms, where she belonged._

 _One arm unwrapped itself as he ran his fingers along her cheek, lifting her face to look at him. "I can't lose you, 'Mara." Her eyes met his, puzzled mixing with hope._

 _Stroking her cheek, seemed to urge him to act on those desires he was denying himself. He blew out the deep breath he'd been holding. His hearts had begun beating furiously, not doubt she could feel them, hear them. He stared at her mouth for a long moment, suddenly remembering when he'd kissed her during the whole ATMOS fiasco._

 _He found himself moving closer to her, head bending towards hers, closing the distance between them and –_

 _"You will never believe it!" came the raised tones that undoubtedly belonged to Donna Noble. "The cheek of it!"_

 _Amara stepped away immediately as Donna strode into the TARDIS, an amused smile playing upon her lips as she squeezed his hand firmly, letting go before she turned to the face the woman. "Who's upset my number one Temp?"_

 _"It's Gramp's birthday tomorrow."_

 _The Doctor frowned, not following. "What's wrong with that?"_

 _"He wants to have dinner." Donna announced as Amara laughed, leaning against the console. Donna stared at the Doctor, who obviously, hadn't understood her meaning. "With us, you twonk. Me. You. Amara. Dinner TOGETHER."_

 _Amara smiled, "All right." She agreed, seeing nothing wrong with the suggestion._

 _"No, don't." Donna shook her head which made Amara frown. "You don't have to."_

 _"Yes, we do." The Doctor argued with a grin though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "We like your Gramp."_

 _"Really?" Donna started to smile._

 _"Of course."_

 _Donna paused in thought, "Dinner might actually involve drinks down the local with a pub-quiz thrown in there too." She added, wiggling her brows at Amara who shrugged._

 _"All the more fun." She grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulder. As long as Donna was happy she didn't care._

 _The Doctor, however, frowned. Not because Donna had ruined their moment, but because he was too cowardly to go through with it. He would have to lay off trying to kiss Amara while staying with Wilf and Sylvia. He would have to abandon any acknowledgement of his feelings towards her for a while._

* * *

The Doctor pressed himself against the cell as she screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her cheeks. He pounded on the cell, causing it to ripple but hold as he practically threw himself against it. "'Mara!" She couldn't be alone, he wouldn't let her suffer alone... "Mar..."

The memories fizzled through her mind, blurred and dispersing as she was greeted with a sudden darkness, cold and void... and quiet. She felt numb and oddly calm for the next few moments as she settled in the chair.

Observing, the Doctor fell to the ground as her eyes opened, burning an arctic blizzard as the probe powered down. He pressed his face against the cell, his eyes wide as he watched, hoped that she would come around and be her usual self. He needed her to be Amara.

"Doctor..." Davros cooed softly, "What do you feel?"

He felt numb and broken as she sat motionless, conscious, in the chair. Futile and helpless as she was subjected to a fate she didn't deserve, and it had been all his fault. He didn't feel anything, whatever he did feel, died with her. But the pain, the longing... it was overwhelming.

"Rage?" Davros pressed, "Sorrow? _Despair_?"

The Doctor didn't answer him, he wouldn't answer him. He couldn't.

"Oh, dear me..." Davros sighed, his eyes never leaving the Doctor for a single moment. "You _loved_ her, didn't you?"

* * *

 **A/N: Hi!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this sneak peak - please read and review.**


	2. I

Materializing, she was flung onto the saturated concrete with a loud thud. Wincing, her eyelids fluttered open as she scrambled to her feet, tripping over them while her hand seized the handle of her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. Her vision was blurred as she stumbled along the sodden street.

Shaking, she collapsed in a heap as she was rocked with an overwhelming wave of a harrowing pain. Doubling over, she glanced behind her when she heard the distant echo of marching. Forcing the pain back down, she clambered to her feet and strengthened her grip on the Sontaran blaster as she broke out into a trek, pushing through the animated crowds which had lined the street.

"You can't give up," An arm hooked under hers as she was pulled along briskly, his hands securely attached to her arm for support. "Just hang on till we get to Torchwood, they can help... just believe me."

"They..." She sucked in a sharp breath, "Can't help..."

The smell of rainfall hung heavy over wherever she was. She found she quite liked the smell, it reminded her that the earth must have been cleansed, and that the day was fresh and new. _Oh, so hopeful!_ She winced suddenly, her knees wobbling beneath her as she staggered along.

It was an accident that she ended up there... her mind was so muddled, she couldn't make sense of much. She'd been bouncing from century to century while being chased by a squadron of Sontarans who wanted her for something she couldn't recall. She should have never absorbed all that radiation. There was no escape from it now.

"Miss, come." Another voice sounded, drawing her attention to see that she was being dragged along by an... _Ood?_ She frowned as he clasped her hand tightly through its gloved one. _It is not safe_. She looked at him and nodded, finding her companionship in the creature had grown on her.

 _Where are we?_ She managed, avoiding a mass swarm of humans by turning sharply down a side road.

The Ood's tentacles danced vigorously as it ran alongside her, _Earth, I believe._

She blanched and pushed away the pain, she didn't have time for it. _Right, what century d'you... reckon?_ She glanced around hazardously for a moment, frowning as the other continued to pull her along.

 _Unknown._

She had never ran faster in her life and she was running for a very simple, plain reason; there was the strong possibility that she be faced with death in the very heart of wherever she was. Her lungs burned as she bolted down the street, her legs carrying her. Each breath still cost her as she pushed further into the crowds worry eating away at her as she heard the faint hollowing of screams.

Her eyes burned as she pushed, dodging people as she bumped shoulders with several people, almost knocking them over through her hysteria. She could see her companion managing to dodge the crowds as they screamed. Hissing, she pulled her hand away from her chest to her hand glowing faintly, a dim golden shade glittering through the cells of her skin.

"HALT!" A shout rippled through the air as five figures in armoured uniforms marched behind her, pushing through the rows of humans with their blasters raised with poise. "WE WILL ENDEAVOUR TO CAPTURE YOU CHILD OF GALLIFREY!"

Several shots rang out around them followed by a symphony of screams as some shots hit the surrounding bystanders, causing them to perish on the spot.

"We need to help them."

"No, we don't." The one hoisting her up argued. "Al, you need to keep up."

A shot was fired which clipped her ankle, throwing her to the floor as she tumbled down a flight of steps, pulling the man holding her down as well. The blaster she carried was thrown from her grasp, landing a few from her reach. Rolling over, she pushed herself away from the approaching, fury-ridden, mob of Sontarans. "I think there's been some kind of mistake!" She managed hoarsely, holding her hands up, palms out in a gesture of surrender.

"It's your own mistake time-traveller, but before we end you, tell us your name so we can speak of your destruction at our hands."

 _This way to safety_ , the Ood repeated, hovering behind her as the Sontaran's blaster wavered.

"Mar, you need to move, come on..." The man tried to pry her up from the floor but she was a heap of bones and virtually lifeless. "Come on," He went to help her again when he was struck by a sudden pulse of energy which stunned him, his body falling to the floor, paralysed.

Frowning, she steadied herself as she climbed to her feet. "Gedak isn't it?" She asked, holding the blaster behind her back as the group came to a slow halt, drawing their attention away from the Ood and the man.

"You are addressing Gedak Drarr the Bloodbringer, human."

"Oh, it had to be _Bloodbringer_... but not quite, no. Not human." She mused, shaking her head so she could attempt to focus again, showing her hand to the lead Sontaran which was glowing a fraction brighter now. "I swear to you, I can't remember... I wouldn't advise radiation absorption as a hobby!"

"We found you attempting to- "

"Oh," She winced, blinking as a sudden vague rush of recognition flooded her mind as she stepped back, her body glowing slightly. "I helped myself to some parts of your Meson Cannons, didn't I? Now I..." She winced, her knees buckling momentarily. "Sorry about that... I, uh, I _needed_ them. Momentary loan, and a Cyborg was selling them..."

Another pushed forward, raising the blaster immediately. "We established no understanding of a loan, mortal. You were the accomplice in stealing."

"Didn't we?"

"You will come with us." Gedak informed her shortly as she shifted on her feet.

With little morale, she tried something. "They say that names have power don't they?" She asked, letting out a breathless shout of pain which almost knocked her over. "I am..." Her words died in her mouth as she became crippled again, biting her tongue to prevent the shout from leaving her. "I am Amara the Imperishable!"

"Are you ready to give payment for your loan Amara the Imperishable?"

"I survived the war!" She exclaimed, allowing her mouth to run away with her as she doubled over, breathing heavily through the sudden wrath of pain. "I think I can survive you and your motley crew, bojangles."

"Bojangles is a derogative term."

She looked over at the Ood in defeat, "Yes, I know." She couldn't help but wonder how she had landed her an Ood for a companion.

The alert had spooked him enough for him to spirit from the institute and to willing enter a vendetta with a riled mob of Sontarans just to aid some random woman. _Where was the sense in that?_ Jack couldn't recall the last time he had run as fast as he allowed his legs to carry him. He wavered slightly when he saw an unshaven, long-haired man lying sprawled out on the ground with an... _Ood (?)_ stood over him in concern. Around the woman, concrete sat blackened and burning as surrounding bystanders dodged the debris.

The air was thick from the smoke and dust withering in the air that Jack had to cover his mouth to protect his lungs as he jogged to a slow stop. "Hey, fellas!" He smiled brilliantly as they turned their attention to him, their blasters wavering slightly. "Fellas, why don't you lower the weapons, huh? C'mon, let the lady up and then we can settle this..."

"Remove yourself, human." Gedak addressed Jack, stepping closer. "This is nothing to do with you."

"He's right!" The woman called out through gritted teeth.

He was desperate, even more so when the woman collapsed beside him, causing him to catch her before she met the floor so they were sat together at the mercy of the Sontarans. "Stop!" He screamed until his throat burned; he screamed even went he felt the body in his arms grow limp. "DON'T YOU DARE!"

"Return them to us..."

"Captain Jack Harkness." Jack cut in, tossing the bag at the nearest Sontaran.

Immediately, it was ripped open as it began to root through the contents, pulling aside clothes and the odd shoe. Removing his helmet, the Sontaran frowned as he looked further into the bag. "Well, this is not possible. Where are they, human?"

Jack frowned, "Where are what?"

"The Meson Cannons parts!"

"We told you, nothing was taken!" The man, who until that point had been unconscious, pushed himself up from the floor and gritted his teeth, reaching for the blaster and aiming it at the Sontarans. "Go and find that Cyborg and skewer him!"

"No weaponry was stolen." The Ood spoke softly, the ball glowing once again. "Miss stole freedom."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jack interrupted with a profuse shake of his head, his eyes practically bulging at the reason for this disagreement, becoming slightly distracted when he saw the Ood "You've chased her across centuries for some weapons?!" He slowly rose to his feet, setting the woman aside as he stalked towards the Sontarans.

"Planets."

"Obviously, she doesn't have them, does she?"

No other words were exchanged as they dissipated from sight.

Jack blinked for a few moments before more to retrieve the bag and return the belongings to its confines. When he noticed an audience had gathered, his patience and all sense of morale disappeared. "What are you all looking at?" He exclaimed, wheeling around to find the woman writhing in pain upon the ground, almost as though she was convulsing.

Jack slowly approached, couching down. The woman's eyes were still open, Jack extended a cautious hand carefully enclosing around her shoulder. She jumped, flinching as if only just registering Jack's presence as the Ood stepped into view, blocking her. "Hey... fella..."

"Miss is friend." The Ood knelt beside her suddenly.

She blinked and then dragged her clouded eyes to Jack. "... Mind's a bit dazed..." Her voice came out like the broken glass of a window but Jack smiled slightly when he caught the northern accent. "They'll be back eventually... plucky species..."

The words pierced Jack; the statement sent worry burning down his throat as Jack scooted closer about to touch her shoulder in comfort but then rethought it, retracting his hand after the previous reaction. Clearing his throat, Jack winced when the woman looked at him, confused. "What happened?"

The man who looked very much like a wolf humanoid approached Jack, "We're all right, thanks." He spoke, reaching to help her up as Jack gripped her shoulder gently as she continued to stare blankly at the stars.

Jack squeezed lightly her shoulder and called again. She flinched blinking rapidly, once again fixing her blank eyes on Jack. With each blink the clouds within her eyes slowly dissipated. "I... I can't remember."

Gritting his teeth and pulling in a breath, Jack pulled her to her feet. "C'mon, let's get you somewhere safe in case those potatoes come back, yeah?" He glanced at the Ood, before his eyes landed on the other man. "You too, happy... and you."

With all the strength she could muster, she forced Jack away from him abruptly, roughly to create some distance as the Ood pulled him away. "No, you've... got to stay away... until it's over." She twitched and moaned in pain.

Jack's brow furrowed as he glanced over at the other man, "What's wrong with her?"

"Just do as she says."

Sucking in a deep breath as her breathing became more ragged, golden energy swirled around her aggressively. Consumed, her arms glittered golden as she sat on her knees, her arms open as she threw her head back.

Jack threw his gun down in frustration when it finally dawned on him, his mouth slowly falling agape. "Just step back," The man told him, seeing Jack still crowding over her. "Do as I say, and step away!" He shouted as Jack jumped away at the sound of his raised voice.

"She's dying..." Jack breathed, shuddering at scene before him, his voice oddly soft and in awe. "I know what's happening, more than you will ever know..."

She moved her hands as the once dim golden glow was emitting a more forceful amber glower, "It's starting..." She murmured as her whole body was engulfed in the amber hue, tears in her eyes as the pain raked through her body, practically ripped her apart from the inside out.

The Ood between them cowered as the sight as the glow exploded from within her, her head thrown back as the light emitted shockingly, blinding Jack as he stared at her. When the light finally dimmed another new form was knelt on the ground, shaky profusely as the man rushed forward to help her stand.

"You're one of them..." Jack started, his mouth falling open in complete shock. He couldn't believe his luck... he wondered if the Doctor knew... no, if he had then he'd have been there. "Come with me." Jack moved forward to help her along with the man who had yet to introduce himself.

The man scoffed, "We're not going anywhere with you, we need to get to Torchwood."

"It is safe, friend."

Jack laughed in amusement, "Yeah, listen to your pal. Torchwood's safe, I should know. I work for the institute." Hooking his arm under her from the other side, he and the nameless man helped her along towards Torchwood, hoping to divulge the nature of their arrival and what they'd been running from.

Jack was mesmerised by her. _A lucky catch_ , he called her. When he'd stumbled upon her, by absolute chance, she had been a complete, bumbling, muddled mess.

Stranded in Cardiff, muttering at some length about Judoon and hospitals - he intended to let her go once she was better until, _of course_ , she said _his_ name and his entire perception of her had altered. Jack had been spooked; she knew all sorts about everything and anything and he knew that no matter what anyone else would try to convince him, he would help her, he would save her from whatever she was running from.

When he had returned to the institute, his was enormously grateful that only himself and Owen had been there, to be greeted by no one and having not to rack his brain for an explanation. However, his was greeted by Owen, sporting a gaping expression when he'd returned helping the woman along with the nameless man as she was barely able to stand on her own feet without support.

"What is that?" He exclaimed, pointing to the wandering Ood as it trailed behind Jack.

The woman, despite her disorientated state, furrowed her brow and managed an answer. "He's an Ood." She hissed out, hearing the Ood agree with her words as she recognised the light belonging to sphere it held in its right palm.

Jack ignored the questions thrown at him as he hurried towards medical, not missing each mutter as she continued to mumble incoherently. "Owen! With me." Jack exclaimed as the man rounded the corner behind him, frowning briefly as the woman was placed on the bed.

"What the..." Owen paused in the doorway when he saw the Ood standing over the woman lying on the table, finding he was suddenly overwhelmed by the scene before him.

"He's fine." Jack brushed him off, eyeing the Ood briefly. "Just all tentacle-ly!"

Owen stared at Jack for a moment before moving to take a blood sample; he ignored him as until his mouth practically fell open in perplexity when the results of the blood came up on his screen. Glancing at the woman, he bit his lip in thought. "What happened?"

"Well..." Jack prompted, ushering the others away as to allow for privacy, leaving only himself, Owen and the woman. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but she just regenerated." He couldn't wait to ask her what her story was and where she was heading, and why the hell she had a Vortex Manipulator strapped to her wrist unless she was part of the Time Agency. He couldn't help but wonder...

"I'll be fine." She breathed with a laugh, cracking her neck as she grew used to her new body. "Just give me a moment, it's always hard getting used to a new body."

"Regeneration is essential to Gallifreyans." The Ood's voice filled the room as it's sphere lit up again.

Owen sighed, scratching the back of his head in thought as he made an expression of utter confusion. "Pardon?"

"I don't know what it is," Jack frowned in thought, shocked by his actions and how quickly he had abandoned his post at the institute. "When I saw you on that screen, I knew I was supposed to run out there and help you, I know... I don't even know you. But I knew I was supposed to help."

"Yeah, about that..." She sat up slowly, her face flickering as she felt the wave of pain. "Still iffy but on the mend... thank you for helping out with the situation back there. It could have turned particularly ugly if you hadn't intervened when you did."

"I always love a damsel in distress, can't resist."

 _I'll keep that in mind for future reference_ , she smiled and rose to her feet, steadying herself against the table as she gathered her bearings properly. She smiled wider at the expression Jack wore. "I thought you would know by now, no?"

"Right, um... how is that even possible. How did you do that?" Jack gestured to his head with a profuse accusation of his fingers, tapping the area furiously. "Are you telepathic, because I'll tell you now, that's rude."

"It's easier, sometimes." She answered, watching as the man from earlier returned, jolting in surprise when he saw her sat upright and talking, evidently still cautious towards her which she couldn't help find amusing. "It's how we communicate, isn't it?" She glanced over at the Ood beside her.

"It is our primary mode of communication."

She smiled again, "See."

"Hi, there..." Owen breathed with a frown.

"Hello." She shivered when she felt the chilled greeting of Owen's stethoscope and looked back over at Jack. "Anyway, I don't like projecting thoughts unless absolutely necessary, it's easier to listen, something of which we would do all the time." She winced when the metal brushed against her chest, wandering as a startled expression crossed Owen's face, the stethoscope sliding from one side to the other several times.

Jack frowned, "Everything all right?" He stepped closer when he saw the evident bemused look on her face at Owen's reaction. When Owen merely stared at her in apparent shock, Jack sighed. "What is it, Owen?" He raised his voice slightly, relieved when the other man glanced over at him.

"There's... there's two."

"I knew it!" Jack laughed, practically buzzing with excitement. "Oh, you're going to love this, Owen..." She looked down at Jack with a soft smile and nodded. "Go on, Jack. _You_ can tell him."

"She's got two hearts. _Two hearts_ , this is amazing, absolutely amazing!"

"I might have got it wrong..." Owen pointed out, fiddling with the stethoscope in his hand.

"Nope." She sung, sitting on the edge of the bed and allowing her legs to swing in her amusement. "Scan me if you like. I've been eyeing that Bekaran deep-tissue scanner for a while... I'd consider it a shame if you didn't put it to good use."

Determined, Owen carried out the scan as he got a clear reading of the woman's chest. Not long after the scan results appeared on the screen, revealing the two hearts which lied in her chest, beating in their rightful places.

Jack glanced over at her, swallowing thickly as he folded his arms, attempting to understand the situation he was faced with. "So... uh, a Time Lord?" He gestured to the scan results and she frowned in thought. This was astronomical.

"Lady rather than _Lord_ ," She breathed with another one of her brilliant smiles, "That's what the High Council would use as the preferred term for a Chancellor anyway... but they're all gone now."

"You're wrong!" Jack erupted suddenly, shocking the crowd that had gathered silently behind him out of intrigue, having heard the new discovery of the Time Lord. "There's the Doctor! He travels through time and space - he's..."

"A Time Lord."

"So, you know the Doctor?" He questioned, smiling slightly, knowing that his friend would be desperate to know that he wasn't alone, that he wasn't the only one who survived the war.

"We all know about the famous Doctor," The same voice from earlier sounded as the unidentified man entered the room with his arms folded. After a moment he relented and held out his hand in greeting. "Toril, by the way."

She winced. "It was a brief encounter; I knew his brother far better."

Owen cleared his throat, his brow furrowed deeply as he turned to look at her. "Right, well seeing as you're on the mend, I think you should tell the Captain and myself why the hell you were running through Cardiff with a Squadron of Sontarans after you.. and your friends here."

"Cardiff? _Hmm_ , that's new..." She frowned for a moment, looking back at the Ood. "That's not where we were heading... it doesn't make complete sense to me just yet, only flashes at the moment. New head, new brain... new everything.

"Doesn't matter, you're safe now." Toril added with a faint smile.

"All right then," Jack nodded in understanding. "What do we call you? You have got a name, right?"

"Yes, but I can't tell you it."

"C'mon, Princess." Jack dragged over Owen's chair and plonked himself down before her, wearing a crooked grin.

She smiled knowingly, "I've always fancied the name Amara..."

"Amara's good." Jack agreed, smiling slightly. "Never met an Amara before and I _love_ blondes."

"I'd be honoured to be your first, Captain..."

Jack laughed, finding he liked Amara more than he had thought he would and she was growing on him. But he knew, _he knew_ , she planned to leave. What was there for her here? She didn't belong at Torchwood, she couldn't become another relic, lost. "Captain Jack Harkness, at your beck and call, Ma'am! And this is Owen, but don't mind him... Jack's all you need."

Amara smiled knowingly as Jack pressed a kiss to her hand followed by a deep, stooping bow.

"Does your Ood have a name?" Jack nodded to the Ood as it remained standing, unmoving and blinking as it stared him dead in the eye.

The Ood hesitated for a moment, blinking at her as he titled his head. "Name origin comes from a legend in the stars, Alvis."

"Your name is Elvis!" Jack accused, smiling in amusement as Owen started to chuckle.

"AL-VIS."

Amara's brow furrowed in thought, "Norse... shame it's not after the King of Rock and Roll."

Toril smiled, nudging the Ood as he merely stared him. "Good ol', Al."

Ignoring his thoughts as best she could, Amara sighed. "I've been jumping for a long time now... I settled on Earth first in the twenty-third century." She frowned in recollection, tilting her head while squinting. "Vashta Nerada made some appearances, always hated the swarm that only lives in the shadows - who'd want to live in the shadows for their lives any... never liked darkness anyway." Amara cleared her throat when she saw Jack and Owen watching her with startled expressions. "In the fifth century, I was buried alive..."

"Buried alive?" Jack choked out, his eyes widening.

Amara grinned and gave a nod. "Humans and their miss-communications, gotta love them!" Humans were wondrous creatures, their mannerisms were so fascinating and yet, they always seemed to survive. She loved them. "I had a bit of an incident with a Raxacoricofallapatorian family during their invasion of London a couple of years back in the present time, landed me one of these bad boys..." She lifted one of the necklaces resting upon her chest and gave another grin.

Owen frowned, leaning forward slightly. "And that is?"

"Raxacoricofallapatorians are skin-changers." Amara explained briefly, shuddering as she recalled in the incident. "Slitheen, Owen."

Toril sighed, "Tall, green skinchangers... Ring any bells?"

"It's a Raxacoricofallapatorian Teleporter pendant. It's been useful jumping about when rigged with this..." She tapped her wrist, drawing their attention to it which earned a delighted moan from Jack as he rose from his chair.

"You have a Vortex Manipulator?"

"My own model." Amara informed, knowing how reliant she was on the thing as well as knowing it wouldn't always be available to her. "I'm pretty good at tinkering, too."

 _God, she's good.._. Jack smiled as he looked over the contraption at her wrist with fascinated interest.

"I know," She smiled a bit, which earned a wide smirk from Jack.

"This regeneration's quite cheeky, isn't she?" He laughed aloud but sobered when he saw Owen's serious expression. "Anyway, this doesn't explain the Sontaran issue..."

"Cyborgs."

Owen crossed his arms over his chest, "What do you mean?" He inquired.

Amara sighed deeply, throwing her head back in defeat. "I could have died but I didn't! _Hallelujah!_ Praise the Lord! Thank God humans of the twenty-first century know what they're doing." She breathed out in contentment, smiling widely as she focused on the men once again. "I'm here now, that's what matters... I'm alive and - "

"You've got two hearts," Owen interjected.

"I have." Amara affirmed with another nod of her head. "People thought I was insane because he's always in my head and well, those Sontarans... Telepathic circuits are _never_ fun."

Jack's eyes narrowed for a moment, "So, you did steal those Meson Cannons parts."

"Oh, I _borrowed_ them..." She jumped off the bed and went to retrieve her bag. "They would have never of seen them in there... Perception filter and all, I'm not stupid. Mechanics is my specialty of mine. Gedak stopped looking when he _thought_ they were clothes." Unwrapping a chain, she withdrew three cannon parts and set them on the bed, admiring her thieving skills before returning the chain to her neck. "They fired at me first, anyway and missed and hit a radiation chamber." Amara defended with a roll of her eyes. "I didn't have the Filter to shield me from them and with the radiation endangering lives, I absorbed it."

"So, I really did save your skin back there?"

"Only this form, but yes, you did." She gestured to her current regeneration. "The absorption made me more vulnerable, making my physiology go a bit wonky; it made it hard to do anything when I couldn't block him out successfully. So, when I _actually_ got shot, it triggered the regeneration process. His new regeneration is rather loud. It's funny; you'd think after all these years I'd be used to the telepathic circuits of the Time Lords..." Amara told them as she returned one cannon part to her bag. "Payment, all right?"

"Why?"

Amara smiled sadly, "Your face is the first kind face this regeneration has seen in a long while."

Owen went to protest, but Jack bounded to his feet and marvelled over the weaponry. "What do you mean " _he's loud_ "?" He turned the weapons over in his hands as Amara frowned for a moment.

"The one before was quiet but he was _fantastic_."

Ignoring the expression Owen wore, Jack turned to Amara. "He was," Jack agreed, having grown somewhat solemn when recalling the Doctor's past regeneration. Clearing his throat, he pushed away the unease and nostalgia. "So, Judoon?" Jack asked, leaning against the bed.

"Oh!" Amara smiled again at the topic of the Doctor, her mood visibly brightening as they moved to talk about him. "Judoon! Right, hospital in London got transported to the Moon where those inside encountered the Judoon. They're rather annoying when you meet them, very insistent... all this stamping malarkey. Authority of the Shadow Proclamation."

"So, answer me something," Owen spoke up, a hand poised under his chin in thought. "If you can hear the Doctor in your head through this _telepathy_ , why can't he hear you back? Aren't all... your lot supposed to be mentally connected or something?"

"Another story for another time! _So many stories!_ " Amara clasped her hands together, wheeling around on her heels suddenly. "Have you got anything to eat... a banana? _I'm starving..._ " She paused when she caught sight of her reflection of the scanner's screen. "My hair... _my hair?_ It's all short and frumpy. _AND BLONDE._ Oh, no. No, no, _no_."

Toril laughed at her reaction. "What's wrong with it? You look fine to me."

"Fine. _Fine?_ " Amara asked, her mouth falling open in disbelief. "This is just unacceptable, I look all wrong. I hate it when it does this, ruins everything that was nice..."

"You look fine, and besides, blondes have more fun." Jack agreed, jolting at her enthusiastic tone. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want to."

Amara attempted a smile, "We'll try to be out of your hair as soon as possible." She wanted to be far away from Cardiff, far away from the Doctor and far, far away from everyone else. She wanted to go home to Gallifrey and to thrive and to live as she once had. She wanted to love.

There was no viable option but to continue what fate had set before her. She would not follow her mother into the Abyss. She would not go so quietly.

* * *

Jack, having explained the situation to his team, had sought out Amara almost immediately after she'd wondered off with Alvis and Toril, wanting to provoke her into telling him more about her past so he could better understand her circumstance.

If she was a Time Lady what was she doing in Cardiff? Why wasn't she looking for the Doctor? If they found each other, they could ' _dance_ ' and well...

She was sat cross-legged in an office chair as he strode over to her, smiling faintly when he saw her spinning rhythmically. "Tea for the _Lady_." Jack passed her the steaming mug, sitting down opposite her when she accepted it with welcome hands.

"Thanks, Jack."

"So, on Gallifrey..." He pulled up a stool so he could sit down, watching as she eyed him at the mention of the home world. "What did you do exactly... before the war, I mean." Jack took a long sip of his drink, clearing his throat.

Amara observed him for a moment, tilting her head back before adjusting herself in the chair. "I was what you would call a Lady Chancellor to the High Council of the Time Lords, the position itself was a rank directly below the Lord President."

"So, you were powerful back home?" Jack wasn't surprised. She did seem to have an aura about her, but the would have never guessed she was part of the government on Gallifrey. "So, you're good at arguing? A politician?"

Amara smiled slightly. "I'm rather good at arguing, yes." She acknowledged with a reasonable nod of her hair as Jack laughed. "You know the Prime Minister? Well, say I'm the Chancellor to him. That's who I was on Gallifrey; the Lady Chancellor of the High Council. I wasn't in the position for very long, and I didn't earn it."

Jack's gaze narrowed ever so slightly. "So, should I call you Lady now?"

"No."

"You'd prefer Amara to your real name?" He wondered, not quiet sure why she wanted to abstain for using her real name. Like, yeah, he knew they weren't supposed to tell me their real names but he had a feel that _Amara_ was no way near her real name.

"Less suspicious that way." She gave a soft shrug, not having really thought about it. We abandon our real names for new ones on Gallifrey; we choose new names..." Amara trailed off. It was true, and yet, she was always referred by her real name on Gallifrey. Relenting, she bit the inside of her cheek in contemplation. "It starts with K."

"Whatever you say, 'Mara." Jack rolled his eyes playfully. "Let me get this straight, you're a Time Lady. Right, okay... why didn't my Doctor Detector work on you?"

Amara's eyes narrowed in confusion, "Doctor _what_?"

"Oh... _oh!_ " Jack grinned before rushing off, leaving Amara bewildered for a moment before returning with a small, rectangular object. "It's the hand that was severed by the Sycorax." He forced the hand towards her as she inspected it, her brow furrowed deeply.

"So..." Amara laughed, slightly freaked by him having the Doctor's hand in his possession as a way of knowing when he was near. She pressed her hand against the glass and the severed limb began to jolt. She pulled it away immediately and gave it back to Jack. "A memento?"

"Well, yeah, he did just so of abandon me." Jack tucked the hand away until his stool and addressed the necklace on her neck which she had replaced earlier. "So, you... why do you wear that thing? Why choose to be invisble?"

Amara looked down at the necklace and sighed, biting her lip. "I use it for precaution, Jack." She breathed, tossing the necklace over to him when she had hooked it over her head. "Time Lords have so many enemies, _enemies_ who would have gladly participated in the war if they had been permitted to do so." She only wore it for protection; the Sontarans live for the bloodshed and they hated her species. Then there were the Gelths, the Sycoraxes... "I got lucky with the Sontarans, and I don't want another run in like that again."

"So this make over..." Jack gestured to her new appearance with a grin, winking. "What number are you on because I know you lot can only live thirteen lives in the Regeneration Cycle."

Amara's eyebrows rose, evidently impressed with his knowledge. "Gold star for you, Captain." She grimaced in thought. "This is my seventh. I'm overly cautious, self-preservation and all."

"So, do you remember it?"

Amara watched him for a long moment before she said anything. "The war?" Jack nodded hesitantly and she clenched her jaw, knowing the subject was evidently unavoidable. "So many mistakes. We abandoned Gallifrey to its fate, we gave up and fled... the High Council resurrected Rassilon- "

Jack frowned, "Rassilon?"

"One of the founders of Gallifreyian civilisation and was widely celebrated as the first Time Lord. He was, in fact, a corrupt megalomaniac. He was resurrected to lead us against the Daleks; he resumed leadership as Lord President." She didn't bother to hide her disgust for him; she loathed him for what he did to them, for the fate he forced Gallifrey to suffer. "A Temporal Cannon could not be defeated but Rassilon was so hell bent on victory that he didn't care, and he proposed strategies; an Ultimate Sanction." Her fists clenched in frustration at the recollection, setting down her drink, she folded her arms over her chest and leaned back.

"Which is?" Jack pressed, secretly excited... the Doctor had never told him anything like this and it was fascinating. _Fascinating!_

"It involved creating a paradox so severe that the resulting spatial-temporal rupture would rip the Time Vortex apart. It was suicide. He also devised a way of allowing us to escape by having the whole race shed their corporeal bodies and become creatures of consciousness alone, one that would be able to escape the effects of time and of cause and effect." Amara informed him venomously, her tone resentful and bitter as she spoke. "It was genocide to sacrifice all of time itself; he wanted use to transcend into a non-corporeal collective consciousness that would be the only sentient form of life in existence." She had never felt _so_ betrayed by her own people as she had when they had mostly sided with him over what had been right... she couldn't believe it. "I still can't believe the decision was almost unanimous."

"So, this guy isn't like you and the Doctor?"

Frowning, Amara sat forward slightly. "What are we like?"

"Likable." Jack answered and she smiled again.

Amara shifted as she returned to the subject, knowing that Jack was still evidently interested but was too polite to prompt her. "I was there when Arcadia fell, fighting on the front lines as it was expected of me to do so. It was awful Jack, the war became time-locked eventually due to the excessive use of temporal warfare. _So much death_..." She broke off, staring into nothing before running a hand over her face, sighing deeply. "The Doctor stole something from my vaults, something he wasn't supposed to have."

"He stole something?" Jack laughed but soon sobered up at the expression she wore, telling him that he had been no laughing matter. "He stills does that." He added with a cheeky smirk.

"Rassilon feared the Doctor would use the Moment, and he attempted to escape the Lock by some means... a friend of mine, a _close_ friend..." Amara paused, blinking for a moment when she felt tears brimming within her eyes at the subject. She had resigned him to his fate... "He, uh, he descended into madness because of this; he was meant to release Gallifrey from the Time Lock with the use of a Whitepoint Star."

Nodding, Jack caught on easily. "The plan failed." He assumed.

"Yes." She nodded in agreement, having grown suddenly solemn in her conclusion. "The Doctor being the Doctor destroyed the Link while my friend gave his life... the Time Lords never escaped their doom."

"But you did..." Jack argued, moving closer to her. "So, how did that happen?"

...

 _Her feet were planted in a field of red grass which swayed in which direction the next explosion sounded, blades of grass illuminated equally by the suns and the light of explosions in the distance._

 _Her hearts broke as she saw them, Dalek vessels and TARDISes falling from the sky like the shooting stars she dreamed off._

 _People were running, screaming, dying, and she, the Lady, was utterly helpless. Tears burned her eyes as her hearts ached at the mere sight. She yearned to end all the suffering, but she knew she would only create more._

 _Rassilon disgusted her. Her mother informed her that Rassilon, corruption at its finest, planned to take the Time Lords to abandon everything to leave Gallifrey at the hands of the children of Skaro. She couldn't stand aside and watch him commit genocide, watch as worlds burned, as millions died._

 _She stood, watching as her world burned around her. She didn't know what to do._

 _"It's the Lady!" a voice called out._

 _She glanced around to see a small boy with matted hair, bleeding, leading a small group of two others who appeared to have been hiding. Kneeling down to their level, she frowned. "What you still doing here?"_

 _"They're looking for you everywhere... the Daleks and Time Lords." She inspected the wound on the boy's arm, frowning at how severe it was._ _"Please help us," His eyes were so wide with hope and brimming with tears that she didn't know what to say for a moment. She couldn't leave them there._

 _"There's nothing I can do."_

 _"You're just like them..." The same child spoke, "You're just another one of them."_

 _Her hearts constricted as she stared at them all. She couldn't leave him, she couldn't... she wouldn't... "Quickly... come on." She lifted the boy into her arms and ushered the others in front of her._

 _Kliavia blanched when she saw no available cover. Nothing. Not even any debris. She glanced down at the children and swallowed thickly. "Right, we're going to need to run and you all need to stay close to me. That is very important." She chanced a glance up at the sky. "When I say run, we run. Understood?"_

 _They all nodded in unison and she stole another glance at the sky, steadying herself. "Run."_

 _She sprinted, despite knowing the children would struggled to keep up, but she need to get to her TARDIS. She held the boy to her as she closed the distance between herself and the TARDIS. Hands frantically shaking, she rooted around for the key, panicking when she couldn't find it in its rightful._

 _Placing the boy on the ground, she checked everywhere else until she retrieved the key and went to force it into the lock. The key pinged off and landed in the grass somewhere._

 _Staring at the bloody thing, she tried to touch the door but her hand caused an unseen force field to ripple. "No..." She muttered, her eyes maddened as she slammed her fists against it in protest. "Bugger... Right, we have to go back. Is that understood?"_

 _Spinning around on her heel and saw the three children looking at her, hesitant as she ran back over to them, pushing them along as they all broke out into a run._

 _Suddenly she was thrown as a once distance whistle grew nearer and nearer. The blast hit her, deafening her as her body hit the field around the TARDIS. Struggling, her vision grew darker and darker, black spots clouding what she could until only flames danced before she slipped into unconsciousness._

 _Not long after, they were leading her into the Council Chamber where the High Council sat with Rassilon at the head of it, regarding her with aa smile while she scolded them all, making eye contact with each and every one of them before each of them turned away._

 _"Why?" Kliavia hissed, her eyes glowing hazardously as they finally found Rassilon. "Why would you do that?"_

 _"If you would just- "_

 _But Kliavia wouldn't listen, "What did you do to my TARDIS? Why would you keep me out?!"_

 _"That is something you should not have," Rassilon reminded, his tone commanding as his voice echoed through the chamber. "We need your support in this."_

 _"_ _Murderer_ _." Kliavia spat. "You've condemned us all." Her face contorted in anger as she charged at the table, causing members to leap from their chambers as several guards only just managed to restrain her._

 _"Is that a no?" Rassilon sighed, rolling his eyes. "A pity... You would have been so useful to our cause. Take the Lady Kliavia to one of the cells, announce her a traitor to Gallifrey."_

 _She didn't fight, and allowed herself to be pushed and pulled as she was led along. She'd failed in her life's mission. They dragged her across several levels, up stairs and across floors until they reached an archway with a sealed metal door._

 _Suddenly she heard two thuds behind her and she turned to see the guards sprawled upon the floor as a woman stood above them. "Mother?" She breathed, her voice cracked, breaking as she spoke._

 _"You haven't got long." She told her sternly. "You better leave." Kliavia shook her head, reluctant. "Look at you... you're so much more than I will ever be. I have played my part." She caressed her face for a moment, smiling softly. "You're going to need to move quickly, they'll know it was me, so don't waste this chance. Get yourself out."_

 _She gaped at her mother for a few moments before she was pushed into the door. And she did what she vowed she would never do. She ran._

 _Shout echoed behind her and she knew they were coming for her. And she wanted to let them take her away, but she couldn't be trapped with her mother. She would have been for nothing otherwise._

 _Brow furrowed as she approached her TARDIS, she dropped to the floor and began searching for the key that had been thrown from her hand until she spotted a glint within the long grass. She grabbed the key firmly and forced it into the lock, turning as she fell through the door, rolled and allowed the door to click shut._

 _"It's over," She concluded, her tone grave and completely broken. "We've lost."_

 _..._

Amara hung her head in shame as she recalled how she had soundly fled at her mother's orders. "I tried to intervene but I was only just starting out, and..."

Resting a hand on her knee, he squeezed the closest hand and offered her a smile. "There was no way they were going to listen to the newbie. I've been there, and they often live to regret it."

"I was forced off the planet... because of the Time Lock, I couldn't return. Like I said, I was good at fixing things, this..." She wasn't going to mention her TARDIS and how it was destroyed, the poor thing. She gestured to the Vortex Manipulator on her wrist which had once been rigged to her TARDIS. "Is my greatest nemesis. It was used against me." Amara explained, blinking her eyes shut as she spoke, her fingers clasping around the bracelet-like device. " _I didn't want to leave..._ "

"And the Doctor," Jack shook his head, bringing himself back to the present, he gazed at her.

"We met briefly, in passing... He was my successor during the war because I was forcefully removed by Rassilon." She told him curtly, recalling how she had been dragged from the room by guards. "He's always been quiet vocal, a good talker too..."

Jack noticed the shift in her body language and he pulled away, "What are you going to do?" He inquired, hoping to hear that she intended to find the Doctor. Of course, she didn't say that.

"I think I'm going to have at it with that Teleport Pod over there, if you don't mind." Amara rose to her feet, tucking a loose strand of her behind her ear before taking one last swig of her drink. "I'm assuming the activation consoles need re-programming."

Jack frowned, wanting to know why she didn't want to see the Doctor. "Couldn't you have found him? Surely- "

Amara sighed as her shoulders sagged, "We chose different paths, Jack. What point would have there been in me chasing him across the universe, several galaxies just for something that could make everything much worse?" She looked at him and frowned. "I'm not looking for him anyway, there's someone else I _need_ to find. An old friend."

Jack's brow furrowed, "Can I help?"

"I don't think so," she admitted with a shrug, "I've been jumping for years and haven't found him yet. I don't even know where he is."

"So, why the twenty-first century?"

"A far better choice than the fifty-first, believe me." Amara spoke, smiling slightly.

Jack grinned, thinking about the new companion she'd told him about, wondering how she had known that. "Right, so I'm under the impression that you're ridiculously smart, like Einstein or something?"

"My intelligence is perfectly fine..." Amara sighed, knowing that there was only one direction the conversation was taking. "I don't like where this is going, Captain."

"I'd wager the Doctor is cleverer than you."

"Jack," she cut off, a slight warning in her voice, shaking her head. Her ego was crying in outrage that he would place such a claim on her intelligence. But her logic was sound; she knew he was only saying that to goad her.

This was a frequent subject with Jack. He had told her how desperate he was to see the Doctor again, but she refused. She wouldn't accept it until she was absolutely sure.

She wasn't hiding from... well, she was but not for that reason specifically. Because of who she was and what she had been, she would be an expensive prize to anyone who saw fit.

She understood all too well that the Doctor was still in pain over the loss of his friend Rose. She didn't want to push him. Also, she had another reason. She could tell the Doctor deeply cared for, maybe even loved, Rose and, if she revealed herself to be a Time Lady, he might want to be with her because he could be with her.

"I haven't even said anything yet!" Jack raised his hands in defence a she turned to look at him brow furrowed expectantly. "Who's this Donna woman then?"

Amara gaped for a moment. "Pardon?"

Jack rolled his eyes and gave a scoff before crossing his arms. "Racnoss, Huon Particles and this Donna? Remember, Lady K?" He tilted his head at her and waited, ignoring the look she gave him at the use of the nickname.

" _Noble!_ " Amara broke out to a sudden grin. "The Runaway Bride, I rather liked her...she would have been good for him." She commented, sighing in sudden disappointment when she recalled how she had left him all alone... he desperately needed someone after having lost Rose. He couldn't be alone.

"She said no?" Jack blinked, confused.

Moving towards the Teleport Pod, Amara shrugged. "She didn't want to go with him, good ol' Donna Noble." She had wondered why the woman had declined such an offer, they would have been brilliant together but she had chosen the boring human life. But he wasn't alone, thankfully. "Instead, Smith and Jones." She smiled as Jack rolled his eyes.

"So, I was thinking..." Jack started cautiously, gravitating towards her.

Amara sighed, folding her arms across her chest as she turned to look at him again. "Careful, that's dangerous."

"Just listen, will you?" He grumbled, wanting her to agree to meeting the Doctor again. He knew it would be good for the both of them, he knew that they both needed to acknowledge that they weren't alone. "How about, you test your mind muscles and bring him here anyway you know how..."

Amara stared at him in silent outrage. "Did you just insult me to manipulate me into agreement?"

Jack laughed, scratching the back of his head nervously when she stepped towards him. "Something like that, yeah." He admitted and she stared him, unnerving him still.

"Hmm..." She'd give him that; Jack was almost as plucky as those Sontarans, persisting with what he wanted. "He can't know about me, not like this at least. I've been so careful for so long... and to throw it all away for some experiment that might not even work?" She gritted her teeth together, digging her nails into the skin of her arms.

Sighing, Jack strode forward and reached for her necklace so it sat in his palm. "You're wearing that which intercepts his perception, right?" She nodded and he offered her a small smile. "He won't know because we both know you're clever enough to conceal yourself from our resident spaceman."

Amara laughed, "Is that what we're calling him now?"

"Sounds more human-like, don't you think? You need the practice to pull this off." Jack smirked, wiggling his brows at her, though he figured she didn't like the Doctor in that way... at least not yet, anyway. "I get that... aliens are after you, the potato squad and others, but you need to meet him again. I always understood that an experiment was a trial, which means there's no way of determining whether it will- "

She damned Jack Harkness. "I can do it." Amara blurted against her better judgement, regretting the decision as soon as she had accepted it. She never liked being challenged, perhaps that was why she and Rassilon never got along.

Jack grinned in amusement. "Now you're teasing." He poked her chest, wiggling his brows again but she frowned slightly. "So does this mean…" he trailed, waiting for her and staring when she approached a table that had been stacked within broken pieces of equipment. "What are you doing?"

Glancing at him over her shoulder, Amara rolled her eyes. "Look, I used to repair TARDISes all the time..." She started to root through the pile, frowning when she found something interesting, wondering if Jack knew how much fun he had lurking beneath the pile of broken novelties.

Jack stared at her, confused. "I thought you were to do with the High Council?"

Amara paused, staring at Jack for a moment with a raised brow, wondering if he was being serious. "Everyone has hobbies." It had been more of a side profession, something she liked to partake in without too many knowing.

"So, you're saying..." Jack watched as she retrieved several objects from the pile, hauling them into her arms.

"I'm saying if I can get the right magnetic pull on the TARDIS, then she'll be pulled through the Time Vortex..." She set everything down and grinned at him, pleased with the lost expression on his face. "To us right here. Hopefully. _Probably_. More than likely."

Walking over the her, Jack looked at what she'd picked out. But isn't that dangerous?"

"A bit, yes. But lucky for you, you've got the right pair of hands." Amara told him smoothly, the aura of confidence returning. "The TARDIS is a type forty, and if I recall mark three... this place is like a lucky dip, TARDIS magnet! A forgotten relic." She held out the object that looked broken beyond repair and marvelled over it.

Jack smiled before his face fell in realisation. "I've got a TARDIS key, would that help?" He questioned, throwing his hands up into the air.

"Oh, you've been holding out on me." Amara laughed as he rushed off, almost tripping over his feet as they carried him. "Anything else TARDIS-y hanging about I should know of?" She asked as Jack returned, passing the key to her as she held it up to the ceilings, inspecting it.

"Yes, Ma'am." Jack saluted.

"Now give me your vortex manipulator." She ordered as he pulled it off his wrist and set it down on the table beside hers. "Doctor Detector too while you're at it."

Jack stared before rushing over to the stool, grabbing the hand beside placing it on the table, noticing how the hand started to jolt again. "Why?" He couldn't help but wonder.

"It'll help..."

"We have this..." Jack walked over to his desk and rooted around for a moment before finding what he had been looking for. "Doubt it'll be useful, though. It's broken, I've _tried_ fixing it..."

"Nothing is ever truly broken if it can be fixed." Amara grinned when he passed the object to her, her eyes widening immediately. "Odd for Torchwood to have a Temporal Stabilizer, unless you've been trying to trace him... a bit of rust never hurt anyone, a laser spanner will fix them up." She sung in pleasure of what Torchwood had harboured. A complete gold mine.

"Oh, oh, _oh!_ " Jack nearly exploded as he ran back over to his desk and began rooting through the draws, looking through them to try and find what he was looking for. _Where was it?_ "The compact laser deluxe!" He exclaimed when his eyes spotted the object of his search, a goofy grin crossing his face.

Pausing for a moment, Amara stared at Jack as he handed the tool to her. "So, what do I win if this works?" She wondered, wanting to know if there was an actual prize at the end of all her hard work.

"A free ride in the TARDIS I should imagine."

Grimacing at his words, she decided it was best for her to set to work. "This could take a while." She wasn't entirely sure it would work, and if it did, she wasn't sure how long it would actually take... "Toril, come and help would you?"

"It _better_ work then." Jack grinned as set a tool box down before her. "No pressure.

* * *

As anticipated, the whizzing of the TARDIS didn't sound until a couple days she'd set to work and left her latest contraption to do its job. Obviously, she had insisted that he be the first person to the Doctor saw, and when his questioning got too awkward he could mention her and she would handle things from then on.

She hadn't expected the magnetic pull the work as efficiently as it had, in fact, she had expected an explosion or a nasty static shock but everything had gone into place, and she found she rather liked the Doctor Detector.

Placing her hand on the glass, she smiled slightly when the severed limb jolted excitedly at the connection. "I hope your face likes me as much as you seem to." She murmured, moving away to continue the work on the Teleport Pod. "Captain," She called Jack over when she saw the TARDIS materialising within the basement.

Collecting the tool box, she practically ran over to the pod and threw herself on the floor of the pod just as the TARDIS door swung open.

"Jack!" A voice called as a tall man stepped out, slim and quite lean with thick brown hair. He had dark brown eyes and his face was scattered with freckles as he grinned.

"Doctor!" Jack exclaimed, returning his grin as he saluted the man before him until an irritated tone broke through the atmosphere. "Good to see you again?"

"Doctor!" A vexed female voice erupted as another person stepped out. Pausing, her eyes widened when she saw Jack staring at her. The black woman, beautiful, smiled nervously. "Oh... sorry."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Now that you've calm down a bit," He gestured to Jack with a tense smile. "Jack, Martha... Martha, Jack."

"Hello, Martha. It's lovely to meet you." Jack wagged his eyebrows at her, shaking her hand until the Doctor drew his attention. "What?"

"Don't start."

Jack rolled his eyes as Martha smiled slightly. "It's nice to meet you, too."

"So..." The Doctor glanced around the base, wandering forwards as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why am I here?" He turned around to look at Jack, his coat billowing behind him. "A magnetic pull, huh? The signal's strongest here, funny that..." He frowned at the man and pulled off his coat, chucking it over the back of the nearest chair. " _Well?_ "

"Uh…" Jack stumbled a bit, realising that he didn't know how he was going to explain to a Time Lord that a Time Lady could actually challenge his intellect. "Yeah, that was a mistake... I think my key might have- "

"No, that wouldn't have- shouldn't have caused a magnetic pull _that_ strong, and you know it." He frowned he saw the equipment sat on the floor, a few metres away from the TARDIS, and he frowned, kneeling beside it, pulling on his ' _brainy specs_ '. "Or maybe because you have a temporal stabilizer, put that with your vortex manipulator and..." He straightened himself out and crossed his arms, giving Jack a firm look. " _A nuisance call?_ "

"No, I mean, it might have been something to do with Amara... it was sort of a bet between us." Jack grinned, turning to lead them down to the work area where Toril was stood over with hands clasped behind his back as Amara was lying upon the floor of what appeared to a Teleport pod, tinkering with the compartments. "She joined us a while back, she's great at fixing things. I wanted to see if she was as clever as she claimed to be..."

Martha laughed, interested as she pushed off of the TARDIS to eye the machine that had attracted the Doctor's attention. "And you lost?" She pressed, her eyes glittering in amusement.

Jack sighed, "Something like that."

Falling into the nearest chair, the Doctor propped his feet up on the chair, reclining as he regarded Jack. "What did this bet involve?"

"I told her that the cleverest person I knew happened to be you, and she challenged that." Jack explained, which had been the truth, he'd known that would undoubtedly annoy her if he told her the Doctor was smarter. "She rigged a TARDIS magnet with the key you gave me, then wired that to the temporal stabilizer you spotted earlier. Mush that with a vortex manipulator and your hand and ta-dah!" He waved his hands in a ' _wow_ ' gesture, his grin widening.

"So, she... that's brilliant." The Doctor broke out into a grin, marvelling over what Jack had just told him before his eyes fell on Martha. Sobering up, he recollected how the TARDIS had been in jeopardy. Shaking his head, he frowned. "Do you have any inclination how dangerous that was?" He tried to sound angry but he was far too impressed to succeed entirely.

Jack smirked in agreement. "Who better to contact than someone who travels the Universe for a trial run, eh?" He asked as the Doctor nodded slowly, his brow furrowed as he processed what he was being told, finding it sounded slightly suspicious. "I didn't think it was going to work but hate to admit it, Amara's a glorified smart-arse."

His eyes brightened at the mention of a new name again. "Who's this Amara?" His eyes gliding past the Jack so they could locate the woman he'd been talking about so fondly before he jumped to his feet.

Amara was fiddling with a deep gallery of wires in the floor of the pod, talking over her shoulder to Toril until a spark went up with her hand inside, causing her to pull away with a laugh. "That means it's the wrong one, at least it gives you a warning..." Using the laser spanner, she delved into another compartment and began rigging wires as a determined look crossed her face.

"You ought to be more careful." Toril managed through broken laughter.

She looked up at him and frowned in disappointment. "Where's the fun in that?" Forcing the Compact Laser Deluxe into her mouth, she fiddled some wires before retrieving the tool for her mouth to use. "So, if we just move this and... that one's done. The thing is with these, they're so similar to Transmats. I'm very familiar with Transmats. You fiddle, and fiddle around till something goes right." She frowned as she continued to fiddle with the inside of the compartments, her brow furrowed as she tried rigged them together manually. She grinned when the pod made a noise similar to powering up. "BINGO! Alvis, can you pass me..." She held out her hand and smiled when the Ood passed her the tool out of reflex. "Thank you."

Toril rolled his eyes, folding his arms together as he lent against the outside of the pod. "Haven't you ever heard the saying it's sometimes best to just move on?" He groaned as she hummed to herself, evidently enjoying herself.

"That's called giving up. No fun at all." Amara peered up at him, smiling knowingly. "It doesn't exist in my world."

"No, I mean, not everything needs to be fixed." Toril rephrased as he eyes the Ood, wishing the damn being would help him out. Something had happened to Amara... after the run in with the Sycorax and Sontarans, something had happened to her...

"Toril, no. Look at this..." She sat back on her knees and gestured to the open compartments. "You're telling me you'd be content to let all this glory sit here and rust away? Come on, what a waste."

Toril scoffed, "This is a waste."

Amara set the tools down and stared at Toril, a mouth slightly a gap. "One man's rubbish is another man's treasure." She accused in slight outrage, wondering what had gotten into him all of a sudden.

"Couldn't agree more!" The Doctor exclaimed with a bright smile, beaming as he reached the pod. "Perhaps I should have picked you as my companion..." He trailed off, looking over at Martha and gulped. "You're my number one, Doctor Jones."

Amara's brow furrowed in thought, "The Doctor has acquired himself his own doctor?" Amara mused for a moment, climbing to her feet, brushing herself down. "A tad ironic, isn't it?"

The Doctor grinned, "I like you." He commented as Jack led Martha over to the pod, however, he frowned when his eyes landed upon something around her neck. For a moment, Jack's heart jumped into his throat. Had he seen the perception filter? Had he figure... "Is that a Raxacoricofallapatorian Teleporter pendant?"

Amara smiled when she saw Jack visibly relax when the Doctor picked out the souvenir from her neck. "I'm good at bartering." She supplied, removing it and handing it to him to look at.

"You bartered with a Raxacoricofallapatorian?"

Amara laughed at his reaction, shoving her hands into her back pockets, rocking on her heels. "Wasn't some of my finest work, I'll admit. Very messy." She winced at the memory of what had occurred with that little situation. She very nearly got killed... she thought the blasted thing was going to cancel her regenerative process. "You remember that one, Al?"

"Acetic Acid, Amara."

She sucked in a sharp breath, scratching the back of her head in thought. "Vinegar in the water sprinklers. Horrific. Obviously, they're always difficult to take out when in human form, so Balerium gas was effective, neutralising the muscles to render their vessels useless." She explained, clasping her hands together in thought, wincing at how destructive that encounter had actually been. "They had no choice but to flee their confinement."

"And how did you do that?" He asked, very shocked by her knowledge of future and alien technology.

"BIC's are useful as well."

"Sorry, but what is a _BIC_?" Martha frowned at Amara.

Smiling at the woman's presence, she took the necklace back from the Doctor. "A Biological Inversion Catalyser; when the vinegar ran out the remains bodies of any Raxacoricofallapatorian was rendered a pile of oozing mess." _So much for trying to pass as a human..._

The Doctor's face fell, "You killed them?" He couldn't believe it – he never condoned murdering species no matter how bad their intentions were.

Amara's jaw clenched. "They killed a friend of mine." By accident, of course, but she held that against them. Everyone around her seemed to die.

"You're not from the twenty-first century are you?" The Doctor asked suddenly, eyeing the woman before him in intrigue.

"Fifty-first."

The Doctor beamed at her, eyeing Jack for a split second. "That explains your knowledge..." His smiled dropped so he could adopt a more serious expression, though he was thoroughly excited to have met someone who Jack thought was equal to his intellect. "I think you and I need to have a discussion about why Magno-grabs are outlawed." He stepped towards her, his brow furrowed in disapproval as she held his gaze, arms folded.

"It was not a Magno-grab." Amara challenged, reciprocating the folding of his arms with her own. "The TARDIS is immune to magnetic hobble-fields because of its shield oscillators which should be on unless..." She trailed off as the Doctor's faced blanked, his arms falling. "Someone put the TARDIS into basic mode, meaning the shields were down."

"Wait... how... no." The Doctor stuttered as Jack started to laugh at how flustered he'd become as having been belittled by a woman he'd just met. "No!" He began to smile at her.

"Did you pass the test to pilot it?"

The Doctor grinned at her, making his cheek ache as he looked down at her. "Oh, you're just the right amount of clever, aren't you?" He mused, finding he was growing more impressed with her the more she spoke.

"So, you didn't pass... Naughty spaceman." Amara taunted in amusement, rolling her eyes. "That means... you stole your TARDIS. The irony that the Time Lord isn't actually permitted to fly his Time Machine."

"He can fly it." Martha came to his aid, not that the Doctor seemed to want it, if anything, he seemed to enjoy being bested by the woman.

Nodding, Amara glanced at Martha. "A bit of a bumpy ride, though?" She countered, raising her brows in question as Martha smiled at her, nodding slightly. "Amara Lambert," she introduced, holding her hand out for the Doctor to shake, "'Mara."

She had to bit her tongue when she felt her skin burn at the contact, her own telepathic circuits practically banging on her brain to just reveal herself to him... to make him happy. She almost winced at the severity of the guilt she felt just by touching him. Swallowing the feeling, she smiled at him nonetheless.

Shaking her hand vigorously and almost pulling her arm out of its socket. "Nice to meet you, 'Mara. I'm the doctor." He beamed, his eyes practically glowing as he continued to shake her arm.

"It's nice to finally put a name to a face." Amara smiled softly.

Letting go of her hand, the Doctor grinned wider and pouted. "A handsome face too, isn't it? It's the cheekbones, right?" He asked, rubbing his face which was finely boned. "No, wait. It's the hair. Women _love_ the hair." Running a hand through his hair, he ruffled it and laughed.

Raising a single brow, Amara nodded slowly. "Cynical much?"

"Oh, he doesn't know when to stop." Martha gave a sigh, rolling her eyes at the Doctor's antics.

"Figured. Always the smart ones who don't know when to stop, makes you wonder whether their brain is actually of any use."

"Oh, I like you." Martha grinned, pushing past the Doctor so she could properly introduce herself and shake the woman's hand. "I'm Martha, Martha Jones."

Amara happily accepted the gesture. "Lovely to meet you, Martha. So, you're a doctor... " She asked as the other woman nodded enthusiastically. "What field do you specialise in?"

Martha's face fell at the question, realising that she had just agree to go adventuring with some random alien with a time travelling blue box without giving it much thought. "I'm not actually qualified yet, I'm still training."

Amara nodded in understanding, looking over at the Doctor who was still watching her. "So, two doctors travelling the universe through time and space together..." She gestured between them as Jack chuckled. "Double the fun? Or double the trouble?"

"He sort of kidnapped me." Martha nudged the Doctor in his side, laughing.

Amara's brows rose. "Did he now?" She sent him an accusing look as he raised in hands in defence before rounding on his companion.

"You agreed!" The Doctor shouted, pointing at her, his mouth falling open so he was like a guppy fish. "You saved my life, so I offered you an adventure that we've yet to embark on." He muttered under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You're like a stroppy teen." Amara commented wryly as she spotted Alvis wandering over with two mugs of tea.

"Tea?"

Sighing, Toril took the mugs from the Ood's hands and set them down on the workbench before he set his hands on the Ood's shoulders. "We talked about this Al, you're not a serv- "

"An Ood?" The Doctor bounced, interrupting Toril as he bounded over, grinning at the Ood like a complete madman. "An _Ood_!"

Martha blanched when she saw what had the Doctor so excited. "A _what_ now? Oh, God! It looks like a squid..." She trailed off as the Doctor fussed over the thing like it was a puppy.

The Doctor ignored her and shook the hand of the Ood enthusiastically, thoroughly pleased at having met another one. "Hello, how are you? I'm the Doctor, friend of the Ood. You are magnificent..." He turned around to look at Martha, ushering her over with a warm smile. "Say hello Martha Jones, completely harmless. Go on." He pulled her over, pushing her towards the Ood.

"I'm Martha." She looked up at the Time Lord, holding out her hand as the Ood shook it.

"Hello Doctor..." The Ood nodded at the Time Lord before turning to Martha and nodding again, the translation sphere in its hand glowing. "Martha Jones."

Martha smiled. "What's your name?"

"Alvis."

"Elvis after the- "

Amara interrupted her with a laugh, "No, Norse Mythology. It means wise." She interjected, patting Alvis's shoulder.

"Miss is correct."

Nodding slowly, the Doctor frowned in confusion, looking between Jack, Amara and Toril in question. "The question is how did one end up here, at Torchwood?"

"My doing, I'm afraid." Amara waved and gave a sheepish smile. "I got into a bit of an issue in the future, me and Al met each other. They're enslaved by humanity, mutilated and then forced into servitude. The hindbrain was physically removed to replace it with the translation sphere, unlike the forebrain which they leave untouched thankfully." She paused, coming to stand beside the Ood, giving him a firm smile. "I found Avis in the thirty-eight century and we became fast friends."

Martha's eyes widened in perplexity. "That thing – Alvis – has two brains?" She asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed at having met her second real alien like figure after that encounter with the Alien Police... _what did he call them? Judoon!_

"A forebrain in the head and a secondary hindbrain which is usually encased in their hands." The Doctor murmured, smiling still as he gestured to the translation sphere in the Ood's hand.

"So, what's the difference?"

Amara folded her arms, propping herself against the table as she sighed. "The forebrain is for the theoretical side, so essentially the thinking as the telepathic sensors are stored there." She gestured to Alvis's head before his hand which held the sphere. "In the hindbrain, memories and emotions are processed which is why it should never be removed."

Alvis looked over at her, bowing his head. "Amara the Saviour."

"Humans enslaved him..." Amara affirmed with a frown; she never intended to take Alvis with her but... it was a chance she took, and he was safe. "There was more of them but the humans of the future, they didn't take too well to being cheated out of their servants. I promised to take him home to the Ood Sphere. Doubt we'll ever get there, mind you..." She gave another, this time of defeat as she ran a hand over her face.

The Doctor beamed again, starting forwards, scratching the back of his head. "I could help you in that department seeing as time and space travel is my specialty." He admitted, wanting to help if he could, and also because he hadn't been to Ood Sphere in a long time. "By the way, when you mean trouble which type is that?" He pressed, wanting to know if there was than met the eye about Amara.

"Involved a lot of running which is the best bit. _Love the running_." She and the Doctor shared a smile. "Anyway, I worked for the Time Agency, and got myself into a dispute with a Sontaran mothership after purchasing some parts of their weaponry which they had _dumped_." That was true; she purchased them... just, the supplier left out the theft part.

"Purchased?" Martha asked, feeling awfully confused.

"From a cyborg mate of mine. You'll be amazed what a cyborg will set you at the right price. It was a gold mine except he didn't know everything he was selling." Amara explained curtly, remembering that the entire situation quickly turned into a horrible vendetta. "Judoon turned up and everything, it was a right mess. The problem is law and order doesn't matter anymore; it complete lunacy from the start. World War Six was in full swing and- "

Martha gaped. " _World War Six?_ "

The Doctor glanced down at his companion, folding his arms over his chest as he tilted his head. "It was brief conflict, the Supreme Alliance of Eastern States used the Peking Homunculus to assassinate Ingrid Bjarnsdottir, the commissioner of the Icelandic Alliance. Not pretty."

"Agreed." Amara gave a tight, pained smile. "The Sontarans thrive off the bloodshed, megalomaniacs at their finest." She informed Martha shortly, propping a hand under her chin in thought.

"Have you been here long? At Torchwood, I mean." The Doctor pressed, adjusting the glasses he wore.

Amara snuck a glance at Jack and sighed, she could do it... she could like to the Doctor. "A couple of weeks. We ended up in the fifth century for a while, didn't we?" Amara looked over at Alvis with a smile as Toril grimaced.

"Indeed." The Ood agreed, the sphere glowing again. "Miss was almost buried alive."

"Not a pleasant memory that one. We landed just after the thirtieth century, and well that was an experience and a half." Toril explained with a deep sigh, rolling his eyes. "A Sycorax thought she was for purchase being a human and all..."

Jack rounded on Amara immediately, "You never told me that!"

Scoffing, Amara rolled her eyes as Jack folded his arms in annoyance, waiting for her to explain. "Technically, you only bothered to ask about the Sontaran brigade because they're a plucky bunch. Sycoraxes don't know when to lay off, and unfortunately I'm not fluent in Sycroaxic. When I said fight, he understood the message." She asserted fluently, smiling slightly as Jack's eyes widened ever so slightly. "Unlucky for him, I'm _quite_ clever. Let's just say genetic splicing came in handy for altercations of future procreation."

"I lost a hand to a Sycorax." The Doctor laughed, wiggling his right limb, grinning. "Christmas Day I had a sword fight with one... it was brilliant!"

"Does your hand think so?" Amara pressed as he laughed again. "Unfortunately, I didn't have a sword to help me."

The Doctor bit the inside of his cheek, "What did you do?"

"I designed a balanced compound of Boronite with swamp gas as the main payload, though the Boronite was the main charge. The warhead contained firecrackers which acted as micro-explosives that would rip the capsule apart to create shrapnel." She smirked, still overly pleased with herself for having designed something that was entirely effective against most things.

"Sorry what?" Martha coughed, clearing throat. The woman can design weapons? _Bombs?_ _Bazookas?_ "Swamp gas and?"

"Highly volatile and ignites easily, put it in a bomb as the main reactant and boom. Boronite's a standard explosive, it's far more powerful than dynamite." The Doctor explained before Amara even got the chance to open her mouth, frowning deeply at her. He didn't know what to think. "You killed Sycoraxes because they wanted to enslave you?"

She knew he disapproved of murder but she wasn't prepared to die. She didn't like being beaten, and neither did she like failing without giving a proper fight. "I don't think I'd make a good slave, I'm far too curious for that malarkey." She admitted with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. It was the truth; she could her tongue being severed. "I was given an ultimatum, and the outcome wasn't the one I wanted. I had to get us to safety, so I took that chance and decided to shove it in a Bazooka; the capsule comprises a warhead, fuse and propulsion unite so when the trigger is pulled and the capsule fired, spring-loaded finds deploy to stabilise its flight while the force of its propulsion allows it to penetrate the target before its explosive payload is detonated." Amara finished with a small smile, grating for how assured as a person she had become.

"Well, uh..." The Doctor coughed, scratching his head again as he looked at her. _Definitely smart, good initiative... she's saved lives._ "You're clever, _brilliant_ , in fact." However, he didn't smile.

Looking over at Martha, she sighed when she saw the shocked look on her face. "It doesn't have to be fatal; smoke gas and sleeping gas work just as effectively." She never intended to be so violent but Sycoraxes were a hard species to shake. "So, this little blue box of yours..."

"My little blue box." The Doctor grinned when she mentioned his TARDIS, motioning her to follow him over to where he'd left the police box.

"I'd like to imagine it's an upgrade from a Vortex Manipulator." Amara breathed as the Doctor looked at her for a mere moment before a wide grin spread across his face as he burst in a sudden rumble of jubilant mirth.

Running her hand along the front door, Amara smiled as she felt it. It felt good to touch a TARDIS again and to be recognised.

"My very own memento of home." The Doctor added, smiling as Amara fawned over it.

"Ooh, hello." She pressed her ear to the side of the TARDIS, still smiling. "A Type Forty. She's wonderful." She glanced at him to see him watched with a smug look on his face, arms folded and smirking.

"Isn't she just?" He admired.

Amara pulled away slowly, "That's a shame..." She commented thoughtfully, causing the smirk to fall from his face immediately. "The Chameleon Circuit's broken, but she seems happy enough."

Glancing over at Jack, the Doctor frowned. "How can you know that?"

"It's not everyday a person sees a telephone box, not very incognito is it?" She smirked as she looked at him, enjoying the resemblance of a guppy in the expression he wore before she turned back to the TARDIS, continuing to run her hand along its side. "You broke the circuit, Spaceman."

"First trip." The Doctor informed her, moving closer as he stared at her. "How did you- "

Amara smiled and stepped away, shrugging slightly. "I'm good at fixing things which means I know how to read them. You're lucky she still trusts you." She gestured to the TARDIS as the Doctor lent against it.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he rocked on his heels and smiled. "Do you want a peek inside?" He gestured to the TARDIS with a grin.

Amara's eyes widened, "Absolutely."

Smiling widely, he opened the door and bowed, gesturing for her to step inside. "After you, my lady." He wagged his eyebrows in amusement.

Pausing in the doorway, she glanced around the console room. Starting forwards, she neared the controls and marvelled over them as she inspected each and every inch.

"So?" He pressed, grinning as he awaited her reaction.

"Wonderful." Amara answered, letting her fingers dance over the controls as she wandered around them, her eyes absorbing everything in front of her. "Brilliant..." She pressed her hand against the time rotor and grinned.

The Doctor beamed, leaning against the Y-beam as he watched her hands trail over the controls. "Thank you."

Amara sent him a look. "Not you, Spaceman." She smiled when the TARDIS hummed.

"You didn't say it... that's a first." He remarked thoughtfully, watching her questioning as she continued to marvel over the console, eyeing specific parts and muttering under her breath. "They always say it. _Always_. It's bigger on the inside..." He trailed off when he saw Amara eyeing him curiously. "What?"

"Glasses? _Really?_ " Amara paused, folding her arms as she turned and lent against the console, listening to the TARDIS hum. "It's is because I didn't acknowledge your brilliance?"

Frowning, the Doctor folded his arms over his chest. "They're ' _brainy specs_ ', actually." He corrected which made her scoff. "They compliment my face."

Amara nodded, very slowly, frowning at his reply. "So, you don't need them." She concluded with small smirk.

"Yes, I do!" He challenged, pushing off from the beam.

"You think they make you look clever." Amara challenged as he came to stand before her, holding his gaze firmly. "I don't need ' _brainy specs_ ' to make me look clever."

Unable to stop himself, the Doctor blurted into another grin. "Oh, I definitely like you."


	3. II

Staring at the Doctor from where she stood, running her hands over the controls absently, Martha sighed deeply. "So, what do you think?" Her voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them since Amara had left with Alvis.

Glancing up, the Doctor met Martha's curious gaze with a soft frown. "Think of _what_?"

"You're joking? Have you not listened to anything I've been saying? Do you often zone out?" Martha ranted, throwing her arms into the air in outrage before laughing. " _Amara_. What do you think of her?"

"Is there a right answer to this question?"

She rolled her eyes, "It's just a question. What's gotten into you?" She prompted, folding her arms over her chest as she stared at him.

"What's gotten into you more like... since when were we playing twenty-one questions?" He retorted with another frown. "I don't know, why? Why does there need to be an answer? Can't we all just travel together and, " _hakuna matata_ "?"

"That's not what you were saying yesterday." Martha whistled.

The Doctor was stumped for a moment; he never intended to offer companionship to Amara like he did. She was just so interesting, and plus, he wanted to help get Alvis home. He never expected her to accept as easily as she did. It shocked him in all honesty. "I like her. She's very handy to have around, y'know... with fixing things." He reasoned, scratching the back of his head as he avoided her gaze. She hadn't stopped with this persistent questioning, like an assault, wanting know if he liked Amara, what he thought of Amara...

"Hmm..."

"What? What does " _hmm"_ mean?" The Doctor as he raised an eyebrow at her expectantly.

Martha smirked knowingly, "You were practically drooling over because she fixed a few things on the console." She accused, realising that she seemed to be very much over her crush on him now that she decided he liked Amara because she was "handy".

"Oh that," The Doctor frowned for a moment before shaking his head in disagreement. "That's harmless. I was grateful, that's all." He reasoned before his eyes narrowed. He knew what she was trying to do, but it wouldn't work... he'd just lost Rose... no. _No._ " _Stop_ trying to make something out of nothing."

" _How_ grateful are you exactly?" Martha added mercilessly, smirking wider.

"Martha..." He groaned in exasperation as the TARDIS opened closed with a soft click.

"Who's grateful?"

His head whipped over to see Amara staring at the pair of them, the remains of fallen snow in her hair. Martha sighed, looking over at him. "The Doctor was telling me how grateful he was for you fixing some of the controls on the console." She told the other woman, trying her best not to laugh at his perturbed expression.

"Yeah..." The Doctor clenched his jaw, giving a terse nod of his head. "Thanks again for that."

Amara frowned, nodding slowly despite feeling that there was something more to it than just that. Shrugging off her coat, she threw it over the Y-beam, wandering over. "It was only a bit tinkering. Nothing too strenuous. The relative dimensional stabilizer had been bugging me and we wouldn't want that going faulty and the atom accelerator..." She trailed off when she felt his eyes on her, suddenly making her feel very conscious that something was definitely going on She frowned again. "Why are you looking at me like that? Are you all right? Is there something on my face?"

"I'm brilliant, Aaaamara!" He breathed, eyeing Martha for another moment before looking down at her. despite having basically sung her name for no apparent reason. "You're face is perfect- I mean, it's _perfectly_ normal." He internally screamed, damning Martha Jones for putting words into his mouth.

"I'll take your word for it." Amara eyed him before looking over at Martha, giving her a perplexed look before nodding to the Doctor, who was in a particularly manic mood by the look of it.

Trying not to laugh, Martha shrugged and turned her attention back to the console, making out she was distracted by a component when the Doctor looked at her. "How's Al?"

"Safe and sound."

"Good, good, so..." The Doctor jeered in amusement, drumming his hands against the console. "Onward and upwards! On! Forth! Ahead! Forward!"

Turning around, she lent against the console and stared at him as he buzzed around, _hitting_ several things rather than _pushing_ them. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Women..." The Doctor murmured under his breath, but unlucky for him, Amara was close enough to hear him.

Raising a brow at him, she folded her arms. "I'm sorry?"

The Doctor paused as Martha came to stand beside her, making him fully away that he was near enough cornered by two women. "I said _limen_." He asserted, pointing a finger at them, wiggling it as he just about managed a grin. "Limen rhymes with vimen, vimen rhymes with... limon..." The Doctor, realising that trying to avoid the situation, had sprung three heads but the way they were watching him.

Watching him for another minute, Martha tapped Amara's arm to get her attention. "So, what's Ood-Sphere like?" Martha grinned; the Doctor hadn't let her go with Amara to drop Alvis off, and she was disappointed. She _loved_ snow, the great outdoors – it sounded all the more fun on another planet.

Amara laughed, "Cold."

"Chilly. Freezing. _Crisp_..." The Doctor listed, accentuating the 'p' at the end of 'crisp', poising a hand under his chin as he racked him brain for more words. "Nippy, hiemal. Hiemal's a good word." He frowned for a moment, tapping his forehead as if to scrabble his brain to find the words. "Oh, what about brass monkey? That's a good one..." He grinned stupidly, leaning over the console.

"Please stop." Martha breathed as Amara smiled slightly.

"At least we know one thing," Amara announced, clearing her throat as they both waited for her to continue. "Never play Scrabble with this one."

The Doctor laughed and nodded to Amara, "See... she's funny."

"So, where are we going then?" Martha asked, ignoring him as she spared Amara a warning look. "Not Cardiff, I hope."

"Well, we were in the middle of..."

"Just go to where you were planning to take Martha until I rudely interrupted." Amara reasoned with a light laugh, "That was not my fault, by the way, Jack can be _very_ persuasive." She informed the pair of them as Martha's mouth fell agape, though she never meant it that way which made Amara frown.

Martha smirked, nudging her side. "Oh, I bet."

"Oi!" The Doctor protested at the mere mention of Jack.

"Someone jealous?" Martha countered immediately, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No, don't be silly."

"Right, just tell me... how do you _actually_ travel in time though?" Martha pressed, still evidently curious about the entire prospect of space travel while stood in a box. "What _makes_ it go?"

"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of _everything_." The Doctor rolled his eyes as he danced around the console. "Martha, you don't wanna know. It just _does_. Hold on tight!" At that, he practically flung himself onto the console, reaching for a button just out of his reach.

Rolling her eyes, Amara leaned over and saved him the job. Clinging to the side of the console, Amara only just managed to maintain her balance so she could hold herself upright, laughing as the Doctor rolled away just as Martha was knocked to the ground with an _oomph_.

"Blimey!" Martha breathed as pushed herself up off the floor, brushing herself down. "Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

"Yes, and I failed it."

Amara smirked, recalling how she had already deduced that. "I hate to brag, Spaceman." She held out a hand to him as he hauled himself up, grinning.

Reaching for his coat, he spun around and chucked Amara's at her before looking at Martha. "Now, make the most of it." He passed Martha her jacket as she was nearest as he ran over to the doors. "I promised you one trip and one trip _only_. Outside this door..." He stopped and turned to look at her. "Brave new world."

"Where are we?" Martha grinned, buzzing with excitement.

"Take a look." Hauling the doors open, he grinned at Martha. "After you, Miss Jones." He frowned when he saw Amara stood by the console, staring at the Vortex Manipulator at her wrist with a frown. Was the Vortex Manipulator faulty? _But then again it wasn't an ordinary design of that either..._ "Are we ready?"

"Yeah, go on..." Amara answered, still not looking at him. "I'll be out in a moment."

The Doctor nodded, still frowning. "All right." As he stepped out, he knew something was up by the expression on her face and when he saw her holding it to her ear, his worry didn't lessen.

Martha was stood outside, a hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh, you are _kidding_ me. You are _so_ kidding me. Oh, my God! We _did_ it. We _travelled_ in time. _Where_ are we? No, sorry. I've gotta get used to this whole new language." Martha spun around to face him, a wide grin plastered across her face. " _When_ are we?"

Glancing up, the Doctor grabbed her and pulled her back just as a window opened with a man dumping the contents of a bucket on the street. "Mind the loo!" He hollered from above, though he didn't seem to dampen Martha's spirits.

"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet." The Doctor commented as Amara stepped out and shut the TARDIS door, a vacant expression now sat where the frown had been. "Sorry about that." He added with a wince.

"I've seen worse." Martha, who didn't seem bothered in slightest, waved him off. "I've worked the late night shift at A and E." The Doctor started to walk off, making her start after him. "But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

"Of course we can." The Doctor grinned knowingly at her. "Why do you ask? Amara's not bothered, look..." He gestured over to where the other female was, prompted a peasant who was stood at a stall, a wooden table laden with mini figurines made from wood.

"Martha, Spaceman..." She held up a figure in greeting. "You want one?"

Martha frowned as she wandered over, "How do you even have the money?" How did she expect to pay for it when she didn't have the currency, and yet, insisted on doing so.

"Space jumper, remember?" Amara grinned, digging into her pocket as she rooted around for some money, "Been most places, you pick up a few tricks..." She frowned when she retrieved some shiny coins, eyeing them. "Seventeen..."

The man at the stall shook his head profusely, "S'nothing like that, only twelve shillings." He handed her three figurines but she smiled.

"I'm giving you a pound, just let me..." She flicked over some coins in the palm of her hand before grinning. "BINGO! There, all counted and verified." She handed him the money, making the gentleman smile.

"You are a fine woman!" He called after her as she and Martha joined the Doctor again.

Passing Martha the bard holding the accordion, Amara then handed the Doctor the one who was playing the fiddle. "Would you look at that?" The Doctor smiled as he inspected the figurine with an intent gaze. "Thanks, love a good souvenir."

"Thanks, 'Mara..." Martha grinned as the Doctor pocketed his figurine. "So, this is like in the films. You step on a butterfly; you change the future of the human race."

Amara smiled, "A butterfly is a butterfly, Martha."

The Doctor smiled at Amara's comment, moving so he was stood between the pair of them. "Well, tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies, sound good?" He asked as they walked along. "What have butterflies ever done to you?"

"What if, I dunno, what if I kill my grandfather?" Martha added.

"Oh no, not parricide." Amara mocked, rolling her eyes playfully.

The Doctor glanced at her, "You planning to?"

"No."

Amara grinned. "Tickety-boo."

"This is London." Martha breathed in complete awe, still marvelling of the new landscape before they, hardly believing what she was seeing.

"I think so..." He nodded in agreement, glancing around briefly. "Right about 1599."

"Correct." Amara added, having asked earlier when she bought the figurines.

"Oh, but hold on. Am _I_ all right?" Martha stopped, worry flooding through her suddenly, gesturing to her skin as her eyes widened. "I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave, am I?"

"God's sake, Jones." Amara grabbed her arm to pull her along, rolling her eyes. "Stop being silly."

The Doctor frowned, raising a brow. "Why would they do that?"

"Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."

He gave a shrug of his shoulders, scratching the back of his head. "I'm not _even_ human. Just walk about like you own the place." He grinned as he looked over at Martha. "Works for me."

"Well, come on," Amara rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Martha can't exactly act like you, can she? You're white for a start, and what reassurance does that give her?" she sighed and turned back towards the woman, "Obviously racism is _still_ a thing, but of course we wouldn't let anything happen to you... you're apart of society; don't worry over it."

"I _never_ meant it like- "

Amara smoothly interrupted the Doctor, frowning, "But you made no means to amend what you'd said," she countered with an arched brow, "I merely pointed out that you're wrong."

The Doctor nodded, eyeing Amara carefully before looking over at Martha, "I'm sorry if... y'know, I, um, I never meant it like that... I was..."

"I know," Martha smiled, shrugging, "It's all right." she told him, though she was secretly grateful knowing that Amara would fight her cause, even against the Doctor it would seem.

"And if anyone says anything," Amara drew in a deep breath, "I'll punch their lights out."

"No, you won't." the Doctor said immediately.

"Wanna a bet?" Amara called before sternly, noticing the bystanders watching as they passed. "Wrong day to wear plaid... I should have brought my axe with me."

"Nothing wrong with plaid. I like plaid." The Doctor interjected, ignoring the look Martha shot him as soon as he had spoken. "Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there." He pointed to a man scooping up manure. "They've got recycling... water cooler moment." He gestured to two men conversing over a water barrel.

"... and the world will be consumed by flame!" A preacher exclaimed as they walked by, his arms waving in the air.

"Love a good " _end of the world_ " preacher." Amara commented, earning a grin from the Doctor.

"Global warming." He nodded over at the man, "Oh, yes, and... entertainment! Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark right next to..." He grinned as he rounded a corner, leading both women along with him. "Oh, yes, the Globe Theatre! _Brand new_. Just opened. Through, strictly speaking, it's not a _globe_ ; it's a tetradecagon, 14 sides, containing the man himself."

"Whoa, you don't mean..." Martha trailed off, her wide with complete shock, utterly stunned. "Is _Shakespeare_ in there?"

"Oh, yes." The Doctor grinned as he held out his arm to Martha, "Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?"

Linking her arm with his, Martha smiled. "Yes, Mister Smith, I will."

Nodding, he looked over at Amara who had continued walking with her hands in her pockets. "Miss Lambert?" He called, holding out his other arm to her in offering.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed and gave a reluctant nod. "I suppose so."

"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."

"Then I could get sectioned!" Martha exclaimed.

"I don't think you should so enthusiastic about that prospect, Martha." Amara told her sternly as the other woman broke out into laughter, the Doctor in tow.

* * *

The galleries of crowds roared, applauding and cheering as the actors stooped into low bow, grins plastered across all their faces. Among the crowd, Martha cheered jubilantly, roughly clapping her hands. "That's amazing!" She beamed up at the Doctor. "Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"

"Gorgeous," Amara breathed, clapping.

The Doctor laughed, "London never changes."

"Where's Shakespeare? I wanna see Shakespeare." Martha demanded, her excitement radiating off of her as she looked over at Amara. "You thinking what I'm thinking? Author! Author!" She started chanting as the Doctor looked at her. "Do people shout that? Do they shout " _Author_ "?"

Hearing her chant, another man in the crowd carried it on as it soon spread. "Author!" He cried out as Amara laughed.

"Well..." The Doctor looked around them, amused. "They do now."

A man jumped up on the stage, stooping into exaggerated bows and blew kisses to the crowds, the audience erupting into a wild frenzy, cheering louder.

"He's a bit different from his portraits." Martha commented as she stared at him.

"Genius." The Doctor breathed in awe as he stared at Shakespeare from where he stood. "He's a _genius_ , _the_ genius. The most _human_ human that's ever been. Now we're gonna hear him _speak_. Always, he chooses the _best_ words. New, beautiful, _brilliant_ words."

"Shut your big fat mouths!" Shakespeare bellowed as the audience laughed.

"How eloquently put." Amara sighed, looking over at the Doctor who looked utterly disappointed. She smiled in amusement. "Still in love?" She patted his arm in feigned comfort.

"Oh, well." He muttered, disappointment radiating from him.

"You should never meet your heroes." Martha warned with a sigh.

Amara frowned in thought, "But then who's to say you'll be let down every time?" She offered with a shrug.

The Doctor's eyes wandered over to her for a moment and he couldn't help but smile at her comment. Something was odd about her, and she was definitely hiding something but he wasn't going to push for answers. He said she could come with him, and he had meant it. After he dropped Martha off, he would mind have some extra company for a while but also he knew that Amara wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.

She had nowhere to go.

And that prospect delighted him but also made him feel culpable to Rose for having replaced her so quickly. He felt so guilty for having found Donna Noble, then Martha Jones and now, Amara Lambert. It felt like he was trying to eliminate the memory of her which he clung to. He _wasn't_ , he _couldn't_... But he did like Amara, he'd admit that. She was sharp and witty. He liked that.

"You have excellent taste! I'll give you that." William exclaimed gleefully, throwing his hands up into the air before pointing to a man in the audience. "Oh, that's a wig!"

"I know what you're all saying. " _Loves Labour's Lost_ ", that's a funny ending, isn't it?" He continued with a great sigh, "It just stops! Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon. Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius." He bowed to his audience as they continued to cheer.

Until he jerked upright again.

Amara frowned.

The Doctor tilted his head.

"When? Tomorrow night." He announced to the audience, who cheered in triumph, while the cast looked on in shock. "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it " _Loves Labour's Won_ "!"

The audience erupted again as the Doctor pulled the two women towards the exist with a furrowed brow. "Please tell me you saw that?" Amara called as he nodded, frowning still.

"Saw what?"

"Ol' marionette face over there," She nodded to Shakespeare, "I think someone else is pulling the strings, _quite literally_."

"I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of " _Loves Labour's Won_ "." Martha commented with a slight smile at the prospect of seeing a brand new play.

"Exactly, the lost play." The Doctor informed, "It doesn't exist, only in rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never ever turns up. No one knows why."

"Have you got a mini-disk or something?" Martha questioned, her excitement having not wavered since arriving. "We could tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a _mint_."

"No."

Martha frowned in thought, "That would be bad?"

"You don't want a copy of a play that doesn't exist." Amara added, knowing that would lead to all sorts of questions.

"Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?"

"Well," The Doctor sighed for a moment. "I _was_ just gonna give you a quick little trip in the TARDIS but I suppose _we_ could stay a bit longer."

Martha grinned at him.

* * *

"... I've just got the final scene to go." William's voice echoed as he moved to take another swig of his drink. "You'll get it by morning."

Poking his around the door, the Doctor grinned." Hello!" He knocked the open door and stepped inside. "Excuse me! I'm not interrupting, am I? Mister Shakespeare, isn't it?"

"Oh no, no, no, _no_." William groaned, rolling his eyes in disdain at the presence of the Doctor. "Who let _you_ in? No autographs. No, you _can't_ have yourself sketched with me. And _please_ don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove..." He trailed off when his gaze fell upon Martha stood behind the Doctor. "Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me." His eyes lit up as he stared at her, grinning before turning to his cast. "You two get sewing on them costumes... off you go."

"So, I was under the impression you were going to wait..." Amara trailed off as she stepped into the room, frowning at the Doctor until she saw she had an audience. "Oh, hello."

William sat up, smiling wider. "Hello there, my flaxen temptress."

"Come on, lads." Dolly remarked with a smirk as she led the others from the room. "I think our William's found his new muses."

Amara stared at him wide-eyed with horror. "Flaxen temptress?" She repeated lowly, as she heard the Doctor snigger from beside, making her glance at him.

The Doctor lent towards her ear, "He means you."

"You think I don't know that, Spaceman?"

"Sorry..." The Doctor screwed his nose up before smiling, "Mortal."

"Oh, derogative terms now?" Amara grumbled in frustration as she turned away from William, not liking the way he was looking at her _at all_. Objectification never sat well with her, that's what had led to the business with Sycorax...

"You call me Spaceman!" He accused.

"And mortal's gratifying?" Amara countered, still wearing her frown before she sighed, turning around again. "Anyway, Spaceman's a term of endearment." She told him firmly, noticing the smile that tugged at his lips.

William continued to stare after Amara, who remained unmoved beside the Doctor before sighing to turn back to Martha. "Sweet lady." He smiled at her, his eyes shining, gesturing to the seat beside him. "Such unusual clothes. So..." His eyes wandered for a moment. " _Fitted_."

"Um, verily, forsooth, egads..." Martha tried as Amara winced, shaking her head to cut it out.

"No, no, don't do that. Don't." The Doctor held out his psychic paper to Shakespeare, smiling slightly as he heard Amara muttering under her breath. "I'm Sir Doctor of TARDIS, this is my companion, Miss Martha Jones. And this flaxen temptress, is Miss Amara Lambert..." He laughed when Amara whacked his arm, obviously not wanting him to encourage Shakespeare, pulling her along with him as they sat around the table.

"Interesting, that bit of paper." William frowned as he looked at it. "It's blank."

"Thank God," Amara breathed. "He's been flapping that thing in my face continuously because I say it's blank." The Doctor had insisted that the paper had something written on it, always, but she could never see it. Of course she had deduced that it was a reflection of her true biology, and she would always perceive the façade of the paper.

"Oh, that's... very clever." The Doctor pulled the paper away, glancing at it before looking at William for a moment, evidently impressed. That proves it. _Absolute genius_."

Amara grinned. "Thank you, Spaceman."

Martha frowned, glancing at the paper, gesturing to the text upon it. "No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones... Amara Lambert. It says so."

"And _I_ say it's blank." William argued, wiggling his brows at Amara.

"Psychic paper." The Doctor acknowledged briefly, tucking the paper away. "Um, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch."

Amara rolled her eyes, "He thinks it, the paper shows it, Bob's your uncle. Except it's failed twice now." She looked at the Doctor, smirking. "Is it hurting your bravado?" She pouted at him which made him roll his eyes, earning another grin from Amara eventually.

"Psychic." William frowned as he repeated the word. "Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady and delectable ivory damsel?"

"What did you say?" Martha's eyes widened, glancing over at Amara who was glaring at William, though she wasn't entirely sure if he was complimenting her or not...

"Oops... isn't that a word we use nowadays? _An Ethiop girl?_ _A swarth?_ _A Queen of Afric..._ "

Martha gaped, "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"My fist is inching." Amara called out sweetly, flowering at Shakespeare, wondering if it would dignified of her to punch the famous playwright in the face.

"It's political correctness gone mad." The Doctor commented, finding Amara's expression rather amusing as she sat brewing over Shakespeare's choice of words, though he wondered if she would ever carry out her warning. "Um, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia. And Amara's far from home, Odd-Sphere – ever heard of them?"

"No, can't say I have... are all their women bred- "

"Excuse me!" A man burst into the room, interrupting the conversation which Amara was more than grateful for. "Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A _new_ play with _no_ warning? I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, _every_ new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

William rolled his eyes, running a hand over his face. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it 'round." He flashed a tight smile.

"I don't work to _your_ schedule, you work to _mine_. The script, _now!_ "

"I _can't_."

The man scoffed in outrage, "Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled."

"It's all go, 'round here, isn't it?" Martha breathed out.

"I'm returning to my office for a banning order." The man remarked, still evidently spurned by Shakespeare's desire to write a sequel. "If it's the last thing I do, " _Love's Labours Won_ " will never be played." He exclaimed before striding from the room.

"Well, then... mystery solved." Martha sighed, "That's " _Love's Labours Won_ " over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know... more _mysterious_."

"How peculiar." Amara agreed just as a scream sounded from outside, rousing the Doctor from his feet immediately.

Sprinting past the Doctor, Amara gaped when she saw the man who had been in the inn, gripping his neck, spitting, choking on... _water? Was he drowning?_

"It's that Lynley bloke." Martha's eyes bulged.

"What's wrong with him?" The Doctor questioned, pushing past them all furiously to go to Lynley's side. "Leave it to men. I'm a doctor."

"So am I near enough." Martha complained, rushing after the Doctor and Amara.

Amara flung herself down the stairs as Lynley fell to the ground, dead, the Doctor running behind her to look down the street as Martha fell beside the man.

"Gotta get the heart going." Martha breathed, listening for any sign of a heartbeat or pulse emanating for the man. "Mr Lynley, c'mon, can you hear me? You're gonna be all right." She moved to begin mouth-to-mouth until a sudden source of water gushed from Lynley's mouth. "What the hell is that?"

"I've never seen a death like it." The Doctor grimaced, kneeling beside Martha with a frown. "His lungs are full of water, he drowned and then... I dunno, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow." He stood and turned to Dolly, "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise."

Amara sighed, running a hand over her face. "Call a constable and have him taken away."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll do it, ma'am." Lilth interjected, walking away with a satisfied smirk as Dolly nodded, not noticing the look Amara was giving her.

Crouching beside the body, the Doctor sighed. "And why are you telling them that?" Martha pressed, her voice low as to not draw attention.

"This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages," breathed the Doctor, biting the inside of his cheek in thought. "If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."

"Okay, what was it then?" She pressed.

Amara's brows perked. "Witchcraft." She never thought she'd ever use that myth as a plausible cause for death.

* * *

Leaning against the nearest wall with her arms folded, Amara stared into nothing, feeling slightly anxious at the entire prospect of _witchcraft_.

"I got you a room, Sir Doctor." Dolly informed the ground gathered in William's room, still evidently shaken from the death witnessed so openly. So oddly. "You, Miss Lambert and Miss Jones are just across the landing." The Doctor nodded as she left the room.

"Poor Lynley." William hummed sympathetically, brow furrowed in thought. "So many strange events... not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?" He stared at Martha longingly, a glint of awe shining within his gaze.

Martha smirked at him, "Where a woman can do what she likes." She remarked, recalling how she had striven to achieve where she had ended up; she was as good as any man, better even. That had been one of the reasons why she had been drawn to the Doctor in the first place, because they shared similar interests...

"And you, Sir Doctor." William looked over at him as the Time Lord stood perched against a book shelf. "How can a man so young have eyes so old?" He pressed, observing him with avid interest.

"I do a lot of reading." The Doctor shrugged in reply, absent in thought.

"A trite reply." William chuckled softly, "Yeah, that's what I'd do." He glanced over at Martha again, "And you, you look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me." He commented, his eyes shifting to Amara who stood eyeing the Doctor from where she stood opposite him.

With his interest having resurfaced, William smirked and sat up slightly. "And you, my sweetness..." He called Amara to him, smiling softly. "You've seen things you don't quite believe, your cautious gaze bestows an attentive yet luring..."

Amara was more than relieved when Martha thankfully interrupted him before he could finish. "I think we should say good night." She announced before turning and leaving the room without uttering another word.

William nodded as he watched Martha go, not objecting. "I must work. I have a play to complete." He agreed with a soft sigh, looking over at the Doctor. "But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."

"All the world's a stage." The Doctor hummed in reply as he nodded for Amara to follow him.

"Hmm, I might use that." William mused with a faint smile. "Good night, Doctor. My sweet beauty, Amara... please stay and keep my company a while longer."

The Doctor blinked, "Nighty-night, Shakespeare." He couldn't help but frown as he left her there, alone with William Shakespeare.

He found Martha examining the room Dolly had given them, frowning at the state of it. "It's not exactly five-star, is it?" She remarked, though still slightly in awe to be in 1599 and with _William Shakespeare_.

"Oh, it'll do." The Doctor eyed the room momentarily, "I've seen worse."

"I haven't even got a toothbrush."

"Ooh." Frowning, he started to pat down the pockets of his coat before pulling out a toothbrush triumphantly. "Contains Venusian spearmint."

Martha grinned at him before her eyes fell upon the only bed in the room, "So, who's going... you didn't leave her with him, did you?" She frowned when she saw Amara nowhere in sight, meaning that he'd left her with Shakespeare, he'd left her to an Elizabethan sex pest.

The Doctor paused, pulling off his coat. "What?" He was fed up of Martha trying to prompt something out of him about Amara. Why couldn't she just stop?

"You're supposed to be the knight in shining armour." Martha retorted in slight annoyance, sitting on the edge of bed as she watched him. "You left her with him? Another man who doesn't bother to conceal his... appetites?"

"Oh, not this again." He groaned in exasperation, rolling his eyes as he sensed the onslaught coming from his companion. He realised he should have probably pulled Amara out with him at the time... he'd been too distracted to be honest.

Folding her arms over her chest crossly, Martha scoffed. "You left Amara with William Shakespeare. Since when would that ever be a good idea – you _know_ what he's like!" She accused incredulously, not believing how reluctant he was to leave his apparent favourite companion in the clutches of a genius. A _rival,_ no less.

The Doctor flopped onto the bed, sighing deeply. "Probably not the best idea now that you've mentioned it..." He trailed off.

"So, magic and stuff..." Martha smiled slightly at the topic. "That's a surprise. It's a little bit " _Harry Potter_ ", isn't it?"

"Wait till you read Book Seven." The Doctor grinned at her suddenly at the mere mention of the franchise. "Oh, I _cried_."

"But is it _real_ , though?" Martha pressed, not ready to let it slip just yet. "I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?"

"Of course it isn't!" The Doctor chuckled.

Martha frowned at him. "Well, how am _I_ supposed to know? I've _only just_ started believing in _time travel_. Give me a break."

"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be..." The Doctor grumbled in thought, a deep frown pulling across his face.

Martha gestured to the bed with an anxious expression, "Sorry, there's not much room. Us two here, same bed." She smiled sheepishly, though the Doctor wasn't listening. "Tongues will wag."

"There's such a thing as psychic energy but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that." He murmured in thought before turning on his side to face Martha. "No... There's something I'm missing, Martha. Something _really_ close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it. Rose _would_ know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing." He rolled away to face the ceiling, frowning still. "Still, can't be helped. You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow..."

"Great!" Martha rolled over and blew out the candle.

* * *

Shakespeare, _the_ William Shakespeare, was rubbing her cheek with an ink-stained finger, whispering to her as though he expected her to dote on him. It wasn't until he ran his hand from her knee to her thigh that she finally slapped the hand away, silently furious. "What are you doing?"

"Don't worry," He told her, returning his hand to her knee quickly and breathing, "I would never seek to dishonour you in such a manner."

"Right," Amara sighed, realising that he wasn't to let her go anytime soon. She was not the sort of woman who would easily be compelled by sodden hand gestures or compliments. Scooping up his hand with her own, she set it against the book shelf. "I don't think so, sunshine."

He was undeterred. "I'm glad that the women of Ood-Sphere are so... _bullish_. The women here are cowed and meek." He stepped closer, moving to seize her waist. "I am yielded to your desires, sweet lady." He whispered.

Amara had to laugh at his choice in vocabulary. "Wow... you're really trying to achieve something here, aren't you?"

"It's my profession to endeavour for entertainment at any given opportunity," Shakespeare told her, his breath tickling the skin at her neck. "I aim to achieve the inevitable."

"Well, I..."

Shakespeare grinned in amusement. "I see... well, we won't tell him. I am the _genius_ , after all." He announced moments before kissing her neck, searching for a spot below her jaw which made her shudder.

Amara clenched her fists in irritation when she saw his hand reaching for the nearest breast, until she slapped it away again. She needed to get away from him, and stay far away. Out of reach. Out of sight. Out of mind. She didn't care.

"Tell me, Miss Amara Lambert," purred Shakespeare, and Amara found herself feeling slightly guilty. The Doctor had used those very same words when inviting her along for the ride, and the mere memory spurned her... She wouldn't do it, whether she had loyalty to the Time Lord or not. Heavens, she was a Child of Gallifrey! "Lovely lady?" Shakespeare asked, lifting his face with a frown just as she realised he'd asked her a question and she'd been paying no attention to him whatsoever.

Not such a bad thing, really.

"'Sorry, what did you say?" She frowned at him.

Smirking, Shakespeare stared at her for a moment. "No matter, it seems as if my intentions are doing their job of distracting," He commented, his free hand against the small of her back, warm and wandering as they slipped under her shirt. "We don't have to exchange words."

His hands were rough, stained with ink and who knew what else, as they descended her torso, as he blew against her stomach, moving to grasp her trousers until she managed, just managed, to seize his collar to pull him back up. "I appreciate it when a lady knows what she wants," he said, stepping back to look at her.

Not wasting the opportunity, Amara sprinted from the room and down the landing to where, she was sure Dolly had affirmed, their room was. Flying through it, she saw the jolt Doctor jolt up in surprise from his place on the bed as she forced the door shut again, leaning against with her hand locked around the handle.

Not long after, the handle began to rattle in her hold as Shakespeare hit the door. "Come, lovely lady! Open the door, I am already at your feet." He hollered from the other side, his voice sounding pained at having not perceived her escape. "I beg of you, do not tease a wanton man."

Sensing the evident distress, the Doctor stood from the bed and made his way over to the door, pushing her off of it to open it up. Yawning, he stared as he looked down at Shakespeare. "Shakespeare?" He frowned as the man tried to look past him.

The poet straightened himself out and sighed, smiling briefly. "Where is my docile temptress? Where is the moon to my sun?"

"Miss Lambert is tired." The Doctor told him firmly, not budging from his place at the door.

"Odd." Shakespeare frowned, scratching his beard in thought. "Are these chases something natural in Ood-Sphere?"

Amara rolled her eyes at the question and the Doctor only just managed to suppress his smile. "Oh, yes." He nodded fiercely, shifting to dodge the kick Amara planned to give his right leg. His right leg was his favourite one. "It's considered part of the culture for the female flee from the male assailant to seek the bedroom of another.

Folding his arms over his chest, Shakespeare backed away from the door, "I shall confront her in the morning. Good night, Sir Doctor. " He conceded before turning away, marching down the landing with a worrisome look of determination.

Clicking the door shut, the Doctor turned to look at Amara who looked practically dishevelled. Her hair was, for the first time he'd seen, messy. Her shirt was all muddled and... _oh_. He felt worse for leaving her alone with him now. He gulped. "Don't worry, barricading the door won't be necessary." He tried to rouse a smile that never came, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he lent against the wall. "So," said the Doctor, "Did you do anything I wouldn't do?"

Amara stared at him, silently grateful that he'd helped her out and that Martha was still asleep. "Coming from the Spaceman who enjoys meeting strangers who he kidnaps to carter-off in his time-travelling contraption."

The Doctor smirked, though it didn't hold on his face. "So... you kissed... him?"

"No, no, no, no. _No_." Amara shook her profusely, eyeing the Doctor firmly as she shuddered at the memory. "A bloody octopus with suckers, I feel like I've been leeched."

The Doctor was surprised she had passed on Shakespeare, a famous poet, but why? He didn't understand it... "He kissed you?" He asked, not bothering to hide his surprise. He didn't quite understand it.

Amara rolled her eyes, "If you could ever call that kissing... I think... well, if that was it, then..." She struggled and the Doctor gave her a sympathetic glance as he crossed his arms. "His attempt at trying to woo a woman isn't all history claims it to be. Maybe it's the beard... never liked beards. Too scratchy, they get in the way..."

The Doctor smiled in amusement. He wasn't too keen of beards either, other incarnations had been but he preferred to be clean shaven. His face was too handsome to hide... "Don't leave me alone with him again." He paused and looked up t her to see her staring at him firmly, a distant expression unwavering as he swallowed thickly. Martha had told him he should have stayed, and now Amara wished he had stayed. He had guilt, he hated feel guilty. He knew Amara could handle herself, but to see her having been made so distressed by Shakespeare... He wouldn't leave her with him again.

He nodded firmly as she set her coat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for the jug of water that had been placed in the room. She'd been bugging him all day, the incident in the TARDIS and he needed to know what had happened. "What happened earlier today? In the console room, I mean..." He trailed off when she turned to look at him, abandoning the water entirely.

She thought for a moment, "Oh, that." She had wanted to keep it a secret and try to handle the situation without any external intervention. She also knew that the Doctor wasn't the sort of person to keep things hidden from, he'd find out eventually. She knew it would be better coming from her. "A call to arms. They're so melodramatic, honestly..." Looking down at the Vortex Manipulator at her wrist, she pressed the key pad before flicking something into the air for him to see.

The Doctor stared when a hologram depiction of a Judoon sprouted from the screen, all brutish and furious as it spoke in flared tones. Starting forwards, he pulled his " _brainy specs_ " immediately, not missing the amused look she gave him doing so. "So, this is serious..." He breathed out, folding his arms as he inspected it. He'd always know she was running from something, but to know that the Shadow Proclamation was involved was unsettling.

The image of the Judoon suddenly became very animated, " _Ho tro mo blo no plo kro do bla œ fo flo mo blo lo flo... blo to plo ro kro blo no so dro œ blo no do œ so yo co plo ro blo xo flo so bla œ.._." The Judoon erupted into a lengthy speech of warnings, " _Wo blo no to flo do œ fo plo... ro ro flo so to œ wo kro to ho plo tro to œ blo tro to ho plo ro kro zo blo to kro plo... so tro bo jo flo co to œ kro... œ do blo no go flo ro plo tro so_."

Scratching the side of his head, the Doctor sighed in slow realisation. _Female, human. Wanted for war crimes_... _Sontarans, Raxacoricofallapatorians... Sycoraxes_. He frowned when he caught the words " _theft_ " and " _homicide_ ", he didn't want to believe it to be true. "Definitely serious..." He added, looking at Amara whose brow furrowed as she listened to the message continuation.

" _Yo plo tro œ ho blo vo flo œ bo flo flo no œ wo blo ro no flo do. Oe bo flo wo blo ro flo_."

"Armed and dangerous?" Amara frowned in thought, finding herself amused by the intergalactic warning. "Nice touch. Makes me sound like a megalomaniac which, believe it or not, has always been my aspiration in life."

"There's got to be more to it than that, surely." He knew most it because she had told him when they first met; the situations hadn't necessarily been her fault and neither did she seem to want to evade the consequences by choice. He knew Amara wasn't a bad person. He'd met those with bad intentions, he knew the kind, and Amara definitely wasn't one. Damn the Shadow Proclamation.

Pressing some buttons at the wrist, the Judoon disappeared. "I've learnt than by not asking questions means you often live longer." She explained lightly, tucking away her arm from view.

"Fair point." The Doctor agreed with a firm bob of his head, though he couldn't comprehend how it had gotten out of hand so simply. "I doubt you're a threat to every intergalactic society out there, Amara."

"They'd argued it so." Amara sighed, passing him some water.

The Doctor shrugged, "I'd tell them different."

"They won't see it that way. They'll see it as harbouring a fugitive, Spaceman."

"You're an enigma, Miss Lambert," The Doctor said, smiling at her as he took a quick swig. Of course he knew she hadn't told him the full story, and it wasn't his place to demand such a thing of her. He was grateful to have her join himself and Martha, and he hoped, once Martha had been returned home safe and sound... that she would continue to travel with him. "You'll tell me eventually."

Amara laughed at that, "You wouldn't believe me, Spaceman."

The Doctor stared at her, knowing that he would be prepared to beg for Amara to stay with him if she ever wanted to leave. "Are we betting now?" He also found that he rather enjoyed their teasing banter, playful and witty.

"Jack did the same." She retorted, smiling to herself as she recalled how Jack had goaded her through the means of a bet. "If you recall, he lost."

"Jack Harkness isn't a Time Lord." The Doctor countered smugly, grinning like a fool.

Amara smiled in pure amusement. "And I don't lose."

Still grinning, the Doctor went to reply until a scream ripped through inn which commanded him to run for the Doctor as Martha jolted away just in time to see both the Doctor and Amara bolt from the room.


	4. III

Like a thunderous herd of galloping horses, they all burst into Shakespeare's room to see him jerking awake from an apparent snooze while Dolly's body hung limply on the floor. "What..." He shook his head free, glancing at the intruders. "What was that?"

Martha, seeing something near the window, bolted over to it just in time to catch the silhouette of a witch upon a broom racing along in the sky.

Rolling Dolly over, Amara frowned when she saw the woman to a have slightly altered appearance than before, "No way..." She breathed, pulling the Doctor down beside her.

"Her heart gave out." The Doctor commented as they both saw the shade of snowy hair that replaced the previous golden shroud that had been there before. "What're you thinking, 'Mara?" He asked, finding the use of the nickname coming more naturally as he looked at her.

"I think..." Staring down at the poor land lady, Amara brushed fallen strands of hair from her eyes and sighed in confirmation. "She died of fright."

Martha, still evidently shaken from what she'd witnessed, gulped. "Doctor... 'Mara..."

The pair on the ground looked up at Martha; the Doctor frowned as he rose to his feet, helping Amara to hers before they wandered over to Martha. "What did you see?"

"Are you all right?" Amara asked.

"Yeah," Martha gave a soft nod of her head, "But I think... I'm _pretty_ sure... I think I just saw a witch."

Not long after, the small company had gathered around Shakespeare's desk just as dawn starting to break through the cluster of clouds. Martha was sat string bug-eyed across the desk at the Doctor, who was sat reclining in his chair with his arm draped over Amara's shoulders as the woman looked as though she was going to fall asleep where she sat. He was staring at her with a perturbed look on his face, one that had an underlying trace of guilt.

She found their placement rather sweet.

"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey." William gave a great sigh in disbelief, torn at having been face with two deaths in the space of one night. "She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats." He turned to look at them, his brow furrowed deeply in question. "But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

Rubbing Amara's shoulder, the Doctor sighed. " _'Rage, rage against the dying of the light_.'" He quoted softly, humming as the woman shifted slightly.

"Dylan Thomas..." Amara spoke quietly as the Doctor smiled.

Shakespeare stared at the pair, frowning the sight of them. "I might use that."

"You can't." The Doctor replied, "It's someone else's."

"But the thing is," Martha frowned in thought. "Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright and they were both connected to you."

"You're accusing _me?_ " William demanded in complete outrage, his eyes widening.

"She's not saying that," Amara remarked in annoyance, finding she'd had enough of William Shakespeare for one day.

"But I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

William frowned, recalling what Martha had just said. " _I have?_ When was that?" As far as he was concerned he'd never written anything whatsoever related to _witches_ in his career.

The Doctor shook his head, "Not, not quite yet." He told her in a low voice.

"Now you mention it, Peter Streete spoke of witches."

Amara frowned, sitting up slightly though in the Doctor's hold, it was easier said than done. "Who's Peter Streete?"

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect." The Doctor agreed before his face fell ever so slightly in slow realisation. "Hold on... the architect! _The architect!_ " He slammed his fist down on the table, jolting Amara, having forgotten he still had his arm wrapped around her shoulder. "The Globe! Come on!" Jumping to his feet, he pulled Amara up with him and grinned before grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him.

* * *

Twirling around, the Doctor's coat billowed behind him as he glanced around the pit, Martha and William stood atop the stage while Amara wandered the far side, eyeing the centre box. "The columns there, right? fourteen sides." He muttered to himself as Amara eyeing the centre box again, frowning. "I've always wondered but I never asked... tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all." William replied with a shrug, "Said it carried the sound well... what is she doing?" He pointed to Amara who, while they'd been talking, had started to climb up the centre column rather than use the stairs.

"Different perspective!"

"She's fine," The Doctor waved it off, still frowning. "Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen..."

"There are fourteen lines in a sonnet." Martha suggested with a shrug.

"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design." The Doctor acknowledged before beginning to pace and back and forth in thought. "Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets..." He tapped his head furiously, "Oh, my head. Tetradecagon... think, think, _think!_ Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

William sighed, confused at the Globe's significance. "This is just a theatre."

"Oh, but a theatre's magic, isn't it?" The Doctor challenged, walking over to the stage, staring up at him. "You should know... stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis a the right time..." He patted the stage thoughtfully, Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place." He pushed away from the stage and began to wonder again. "And if you exaggerate that..."

"It's like your police box; small wooden box with all that _power_ inside."

"Oh." The Doctor grinned. " _Oh_ , Martha Jones. I like you."

"Oh, that's clever..." Amara peered over the edge of the box and grinned, drumming her hands on the side. "It's so much more than that. This is clever! _Clever!_ Ridiculously clever _. Brilliant,_ actually." She sung in amusement, pacing along the top column.

Looking up, the Doctor saw her smiling. "What?"

"Fourteen sides..." Amara gestured to the stage where William and Martha were stood. "Martha saw a witch, Will's a human marionette doll. They attack through DNA molecules, I'm assuming that while words are their power as is physical manipulation. Still nothing?" The Doctor shrugged and she moved so she was practically hanging over the sides in pure amusement. " _The Pristatrek Galaxy_. Fourteen stars of the Rexel Planetary Configuration."

Mouth falling agape, the Doctor stared up at her for a moment in utter surprise. "If you're right..."

"I'm good, aren't I?" Amara grinned smugly, "Not everyone needs " _brainy specs_ ", Spaceman."

The Doctor laughed, pressing his hands to his mouth in congratulations as he blew kisses. "Oh, I could kiss you!" He exclaimed, beaming.

"Control yourself, we're in public."

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor spun around to look at William. "Tell you what, though. Peter Streete. Can we talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer." William breathed with a frown. "A month after finishing this place...

Jogging down the stairs, Amara strolled out into the pit. "He went cuckoo... thought as much. He lost his mind, how convenient." She paused when she saw William eyeing her curiously, "Not for him, obviously." She amended with a bowed head.

"Yes, he went mad." William agreed.

"Why?" Martha folded her arms, frowning. "What happened?"

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, _babbling_. His mind was addled."

Amara bit the inside of her cheek, "I'd argued that."

"Where is he now?" The Doctor pressed, moving to stand beside Amara.

"Bedlam." William answered with a hard swallow as Amara's eyes widened.

Martha glanced between them. "What's Bedlam?"

"Bethlem Hospital. _The madhouse_."

"We're gonna go there." The Doctor announced, turning around in one fluid movement. "Right now. Come on." He grabbed Amara's hand and hauled her along with him eagerly.

Allowing the Doctor to drag her along, she laughed. "Not this hand malarkey again, Spaceman."

"What's wrong with it?" He frowned, briefly glancing at their entwined hands. He's always did it, with Donna Noble... _bless Donna Noble_. Martha didn't seem to mind. He always did it with Rose. "We'll get there quicker if we move at the same speed."

"And yet, you'll move slower dragging me."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "I love a good smart arse, mortal."

Amara smiled slightly, "Is that a term of endearment I detect, Spaceman?"

"Perhaps."

Behind them, Shakespeare had coerced Martha into conversing with him through his usual means of flirting. "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors..." He smiled at her.

"This country's _ruled_ by a woman." Martha remarked immediately.

"Ah, she's _royal_." William shrugged, "That's God's business... though you are a _royal beauty_."

Martha paused, shaking her head. "Whoa, Nelly! I _know_ for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"But Martha, this is the _town_." He pulled her flush against himself immediately.

"Come on." The Doctor halted suddenly to turn to the pair behind himself and Amara. "We can all have a good flirt later." He was growing sick and tired of Shakespeare flirting with _his_ companions, though he was thankful that at least Amara declined it at every given chance whereas Martha seemed to enjoy every moment of it. It was infuriating.

"Is that a promise, Doctor?" William teased, glancing over at him with a smirk which wiped the vexed expression from the Doctor's face.

"Oh, fifty-seven academics just punched the air." The Doctor breathed, closing his eyes in frustration. " _Now move!_ "

"Oh, Will..." Amara chuckled as the Doctor tugged her along again, "I think you just made him blush."

"It is a pity that such a rosy shade had not befallen your cheeks, my lovely lady for I would have raced to indulge myself in..."

"Oi!" The Doctor blurted in irritation, glowering slightly, having retained his frustration. "No, no, no, _no_. No. Just... just lay off." He warned William lowly, not noticing the surprised look from both of the women as he expressed a seemingly protective regard to Amara pushing her behind him.

"Harmless." William rose his hands in surrender, chuckling at the reaction.

Echoing and rippled from the walls, screeches and moans ricocheted off of their bodies as they were led through the halls, their ears bleeding at the greeting of pained, menacing screams of the helpless.

Turning to face them, the jailer smirked in amusement at their horrified expressions. "Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits?" He gestured to the cells they passed, "I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya. Bandog and Bedlam!"

"No, I don't!" The Doctor hissed, watching as Amara slowed, staring at the residents in the cells with a silent agony in the depths of her eyes. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him. "Are you all right?" The way she looked at him told him the answer to his question and he winced, brow furrowed at the realisation that she was familiar with the environment.

"Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies."

Pausing, Amara ran her hand along a cell wall and it was grabbed almost immediately by the man who lurked inside, clutching her fingers for dear life as she knelt beside the cell. She smiled sadly, not pulling away as Shakespeare began to rant in outrage why it wasn't a good idea to do so. "A little comfort never hurt anyone!" She hissed, turning back to the man.

Sending William a look, the Doctor set a hand on her shoulder. "Come on," He murmured, hauling her up as the man let go of her hand. "Just try not to look at them..."

Amara clenched her jaw, "It's hard," She murmured as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her against him again. "No one belongs behind a cell for the whole world to see, to poke their ugly faces in on you while you're helpless to do anything about it."

The Time Lord's face fell entirely as he turned his back on Shakespeare and Martha, effortlessly pulling Amara into his arms so he could hug her to him securely. "We can talk about, if you want to." He offered quietly, blocking her from Shakespeare's view as he rubbed her back.

"I'm all right," Amara removed herself from his embrace, wrapping her arms around herself as they waited. "When we leave..." She told him softly, scratching the back of her neck in discomfort.

"So _this_ is what you call a _hospital_ , yeah?" Martha glanced around them in disbelief. "Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your _friend_ in here?"

William rolled his eyes, "Oh, and it's all _so_ different in Freedonia."

"But you're clever!" Martha accused, "Do you _honestly_ think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind." William affirmed quietly, his toe having grown worrisome and dark. "Fear of this place set me right again... it serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?" Martha wondered out of interest.

"You lost your son." The Doctor spoke softly, sighing as he watched Amara stare off into some invisible torment while the screams continued with their vicious onslaught. Perhaps bringing her along for the ride hadn't been such a good idea... but he didn't want to take her back to Torchwood either. He was torn.

"My only boy." William swallowed thickly, the subject often distant and painful. "The Black Death took him... I _wasn't_ even there."

"I didn't know." Martha bowed her head as she quietly spoke, "I'm sorry."

"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be..." He trailed off in thought before a small smile crossed his face. "Oh, that's quite good."

"You should write that down." The Doctor suggested with a slight smile, having not taken his eyes from Amara as she glanced around the cells, her eyes glazed over with silent worry.

"Hmm, maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

"This way, m'lord!" The jailer called as they all trudged down to where he was stood waiting outside a cell which held a filthy man lying in a cot, "They can be dangerous, m'lord. Don't know their own strength."

"I think it helps if you don't whip them!" The Doctor hissed in disgust, "Now get out!"

Amara brushed past the jailer instantly to perch on the stool opposite the architect, frowning softly. "Peter?" She held out her hand to him which the man eyed cautiously, his eyes barely meeting her as he moved to touch it but then decided against it.

"He's the same as he was." William explained softly, remaining near the entrance. "You'll get nothing out of him."

Ignoring Shakespeare, the Doctor let his hand fall on Peter's shoulder, causing the man to jerk as he looked at him with the same crazed, glassy gaze Amara had received moments before. "Peter?"

"He's not incompetent." Amara commented with a heavy sigh, gripping the man's hand so he could feel her heartbeat, a method she hoped would calm him. "He wants to speak, but someone's obstructed his speech purposely." She felt the fingers at her wrist tighten when the Doctor knelt in front of him, causing the man to stir, panic crossing his face.

Hesitantly, the Doctor placed his fingertips on either side of Peter's face, "Peter, I'm the Doctor." He told him softly before closing his eyes, breathing evenly. "Go into the past, one year ago. Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story... a winter's tale. _Let go_. Listen. That's it, just let go." With a sudden ease, the Doctor managed to get Peter to settle in the cot. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches..."

"It's all right," Amara murmured, having moved due to his hold on her wrist, "You're safe... they can't hurt you anymore."

"Witches spoke to Peter... in the night, they whispered." He tried to hit himself but Amara's hands enclosed around his so she could hold them firmly, forcing the pulse point in her wrist under his fingertips. "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls, _always fourteen_. When the work was done," he started to laugh manically before adopting an eerie trance just like before. "They sapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" Crouching beside him again, he frowned in desperation - he needed to know, he needed to know so he help. "Peter, _tell me_. You've got to tell me where were they?"

"Peter," Amara called the man to her when he hesitated, seeming conflicted about his answer. "You have to tell us so we can help... where are they?"

"All Hallows Street." He whispered.

"Too many words." An unknown voice asserted as the Doctor sprung to his feet, while Amara stood in front of Peter to block him from view.

"What the hell?" Martha gaped.

"Just one touch of the heart." The witch, Doomfinger, lifted a hand as a wicked cackle left her mouth.

Despite shouts of protest from the Doctor, she hadn't bothered to move. "I don't think so, Hag-atha." Amara bit out, holding her ground as she remained in front of him, despite the prospect of being touched and outed as a Time Lady. Her mind screamed move, but her hearts were defiant. Defiantly stupid.

As Doomfinger went to touch her, the Doctor seized her arm and yanked her away as the hand met Peter's chest, "No!" He exclaimed in outrage as Peter's writhed within the cot before curling up on his side and ceasing to move, lifeless and limp.

"Witch!" William bellowed, pulling Martha to him. "I'm _seeing_ a witch!"

"Who would be next, hmm?" Doomfinger glanced between the four of them with a maniacal grin, wiggling her finger. "Just one touch. Oh, _oh,_ I'll stop your frantic hearts... _poor, fragile mortals_."

In a sudden panic, Martha flung herself at the cell wall, "Let us out! Let us out!"

"That's not gonna work. The whole building's shouting that."

"Who will die first, hmm?" She tilted her head, awaiting to curse the fate of another among them.

He felt Amara move to pass him, grabbing her he smoothly tucked her behind him as he sighed in contemplation. "Well, if you're looking for volunteers." He strode forward, hands in pockets and wearing a sheepish expression.

"No! Don't!"

"Doctor, can you stop her?" William cried out, wary as his eyes remained glued to Doomfinger.

Doomfinger cackled at William, "No mortal has power over me."

"Oh, but there's a power in words." The Doctor announced through a clenched jaw, "If I can find the right one, if I can just know you..."

"None on Earth has knowledge of us." Doomfinger argued.

"Unlucky for you, my lovely companion here figured that out. She's smart, _ridiculously_ so... it's a good thing we're here," He glared at Doomfinger before continuing, knowing he was fortunate to have stumbled upon Amara deliberately. "Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy... _ah_ , fourteen! _That's it!_ Fourteen!" He turned to Amara, grinning. "You said so, didn't you? So, so, _so_ clever. It's infuriating."

"The fourteen stars of the Rexel Planetary Configuration."

Turning back to Doomfinger, the Doctor glared. "Creature, I name you Carrionite!" As the words left his mouth, Doomfinger wailed hysterically before dissipating, leaving them staring at the inner walls of the cell.

"What did you do?" Martha gasped as the Doctor turned to face them, wrapping an arm around Amara's shoulder.

"I named her." He shrugged in reply, "The power of a name, that's old magic."

Martha scoffed, remembering what he'd told her about magic not existing. "But there's no such thing as magic."

" _Well,_ it's just a different sort of science." The Doctor explained, moving towards the cell door, ready to leave. "You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom."

"Carrionites use words instead." Amara added.

"Use them for what?" William pressed, his chest heaving.

"The end of the world." The Doctor grimaced as the jailer finally returned, hauling open the door as he led Amara through it. Sighing, he glanced down at her, noticing her spirits were still dampened, something he never liked to see. "You know... we make a pretty good team, 'Mara." He offered her a smile. "You've been holding out on me."

She smiled back, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I told you, not everyone needs " _brainy specs_ " to be clever."

* * *

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe." The Doctor told them as he paced in Shakespeare's room, a deep frown pulling across his face as he racked his brain. "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend." He shook his head in frustration, tapping it as if to make his brain find the answer, giving it direction.

"Well, I'm going for real." William added, sucking in a sharp breath.

Amara nodded, "Sensible."

"But what do they want?" Martha frowned as she turned to the Doctor, arms folded as she waited expectantly for the answer that didn't come from him.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Amara rose to her feet, looking at Martha as the woman turned around before leaning against the table with a sigh. _Evidently not..._ "A new empire on Earth minus us lot."

The Doctor sighed, "A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

"But _how_?"

Glancing over at William, the Doctor cleared his throat before addressing the distracted man. "I'm looking at the man with the words."

" _Me?_ " William gaped, staring at the Doctor with a startled look. "But I've done nothing.

"Hold on, though." Martha turned to him as well, "What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?" She wondered aloud thoughtfully, a soft frown appearing.

"Finishing the play."

Amara pushed off of the table suddenly, "What happens on the last page?" She walked towards him, stern as she stared at him closely, arms folded.

"The boys get the girls, they have a bit of a dance." He told her with a confused look, "It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual, except those last few lines. Funny thing is..." William looked down in thought, "I _don't_ actually remember writing them."

"That's probably because you didn't." Amara commented as she wheeled around to look at the Doctor.

" _That's it!_ " The Doctor realised, "They _used_ you, they _gave_ you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. " _Love's Labours Won_ ", it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" He gasped, turning away for a moment, "And yes, you can have that."

"I told you, human marionette doll." Amara let out, spinning away.

It had been surprisingly frustration to find a map in Shakespeare's room with papers strewn all over the place and ink stains on almost everything, so when the eventually found one, she was especially impressed to see the thing clean and without any tainting at the hands of the poet.

William stared as the Doctor frowned at the contents of the map, having adorned an accessory he'd never seen across his eyes. "What are those things he wears?" He nudged Amara, gesturing to the Doctor's face.

Amara sighed, smiling. "He _thinks_ they make him look clever. He doesn't actually _need_ them, it just boosts his outrageous ego." She informed the poet as the Doctor's head shot up with a frown.

"Oi, zip it zippy."

She laughed, "Shut it, Spaceman."

"And he told me off." William murmured from her side, causing her to glance at him.

Shakespeare wore an accusing expression as she stared at him, wondering what had riffled the man's feathers now. "Pardon?" Amara didn't quite understand what he was talking about, well, she had some inclination...

He nodded to the Doctor, "He flirts so openly..."

Her eyes widened in realisation and she immediately began to shake her in disagreement. "Oh no, it's not..." She would not have some poet, no matter how bloody famous, implicate her like that. No, it _couldn't_ , it _wouldn't_...

"I think it is." William challenged with a smirk, folding his arms as they both watched the Doctor working, "You're just like him... he just doesn't know it. I've seen you looking, how you try to put distance between the both of you and he goes against it." He paused for a split second, contemplating the Doctor. "He's protective, so it's not entirely unrequited- "

"What now?" Her eyes bulged in their sockets.

William shrugged, "But I thought- "

"No." She interjected plainly, wanting to put the conversation to bed as soon as she was able. "Platonic is a great word. _Love_ platonic."

"Fine." William breathed in amusement.

Eyeing the pair opposite them for a moment, the Doctor glanced back down at the map and grinned, "All Hallows Street. There it is." He exclaimed, pulling off his glasses and tucking them away. "We'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

"I'll do it," William shook the Doctor's hand, smiling widely. "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know _nothing._ "

"Oh, don't complain." Martha sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not." He sent her a quick flash of teeth, "It's _marvellous_. Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare." The Doctor hollered, moving towards the door. "Once more unto the breach!"

"I like that." William smiled with a nod of his head before he frowned, "Wait a minute... that's one of mine."

"Oh, just shift!" The Doctor shouted as the four of them raced out of the inn, separating into pairs. Frowning, the Doctor jogged to a halt and grabbed Amara's hand as she made to follow Shakespeare. "'Mara, what are you doing?"

She shrugged, "I'm the cavalry." If a brilliant, _brilliant_ time-traveller such as the Doctor expected William Shakespeare to stop one of his _own_ plays single-handedly, he definitely did need his _"brainy specs_ ".

He tugged on her arm, trying to pull her along with him. "No, you're coming with us."

"You honestly think he's going to be able to stop that play?" She countered, staring up at him as he looked down at her.

"But..." He sighed in defeat. It was a logical choice; he and Martha go one way, she and Shakespeare the other... he just didn't trust the poet with her. Despite that, he eventually relented. "All right. But be careful, and don't let any of them touch you. Don't let Shakespeare touch you!"

Amara laughed, running after Shakespeare. "Nonsense, I can't have my Spaceman getting all jealous! That would be sacrilege!"

Chasing after the poet, she found him moving to enter the Globe through the back entrance, heaving and spluttering as he braced himself on his knees to catch his breath. Evidently, the man harboured no talent in athletics. "I've never... ran like that... in... ages..."

"Yeah," Amara patted his on the back, helping him back stage. "With the Doctor there's always running. You grow to love it."

Straightening himself, Shakespeare sighed. "What do I do?" He asked, having not contemplating a way to successfully intervene.

"You're the author!"

Shakespeare rolled his eyes at her remark, "I know that but how?"

"Be Shakespearean!" Amara pushed him towards the stage, worried that they were desperately running out of time they didn't have the more William fussed over how to go about stopping the play.

"Oh, that's good." William flashed a grin at Amara, "I like it!"

"It's one of yours!"

"Mewling poor drooped men in stenched beds..."

Marching onto the stage, Shakespeare pushed through the arrangement of actors, bursting to the front. "Stop the play! I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but _stop_. This performance _must_ end immediately!" He called out, concern lacing his words.

"Everyone's a critic." The actor, Dick, muttered as he rolled his eyes at William.

From the centre box, the two Carrionites, Bloodtide and Doomfinger hissed at the appearance of Shakespeare, "The wordsmith!" Bloodtide cried in outrage.

"Fear not." Doomfinger pulled out the very same dolly that had previously been used to control Shakespeare, "I have the doll." She smirked, holding the doll towards William.

"I'm sorry." William stuck his hands into the air as the audience booed, the echoing of disdainful abuse meeting his ears. "You'll get a refund. But this play must not be performed!" He called out again, his eyes widening with the sudden outrage from both cast and audience. His worry, however, was shortly lived as Doomfinger knocked the doll with her hand, causing Shakespeare to fall unconscious upon the stage in an exhausted heap.

"Is he drunk or what?" Kempe, another actor, whispered.

"Get him off the stage!" Dick ordered as the audience erupted with laughter while poor Shakespeare was carried off by fellow actors, vanishing from sight.

Rising to his feet, Kempe smiled nervously. "You must forgive our irksome Will... he's been on the beer and feeling ill."

Amara stared as the actors removed Shakespeare from the stage, setting the unconscious man down. _Knocked out by his own actors? The Carrionites?_ Pinching the ridge of her nose in frustration, she glanced around the her, hoping to find something, anything, that she could use to stall time for the Doctor and Martha.

"You want something doing..." She steadied herself as she heard the bustle of the audience, cheering and groaning, or clapping at whatever was before them. "Just bloody do it yourself."

With a firm step in the right direction, she started up the stairs to the stage and threw open the doors, "Bonjourno, good day!" She held the rapier in the air, bowing to the audience, who watched in a mix buzz of surprise and confusion. "I blow you a kiss!" She grinned as she brought her hand to her mouth in greeting.

"Get off," Dick hissed.

"I am the zealous Zorro!" Amara announced to the audience, who seemed to cheer at the inclusion of the name. "Highborn spurned, I who is reborn will yet refrain, thou who is stubborn from thy own gain!"

Kempe and Dick made to grab her but Amara whacked them with the edge of the fencing sword, grinning. "En garde, man with the funny moustache! With thy skill, I will shave thou like the baby lamb thou is!"

"Gut them!" A man from the crowd shouted, raising his fist into the air among the other chants.

"What?" The two men gaped.

"The gentleman isn't wrong! I rather like the suggestion..." Amara grinned, tapping Dick on the shoulder. "I am more a man than ye."

"Who is this mortal?"

"She is a friend of this Doctor." Doomfinger hissed, reaching over the side of the box to stare at the woman prancing around the stage, distracting the actors as the audience laughed, cheering "Zorro".

Bloodtide shuddered, "We must stop her."

* * *

The Doctor frowned as he spun around, glancing at the street laden with houses, both big and small. "All Hallows Street, but which house?" He breathed out, turning in a full circle, scratching the back of his head in wonder.

"The thing is, though..." Martha trailed off, lost in sudden thought. "Am I missing something here?" She glanced over at the Doctor, "The world didn't end in 1599, it just _didn't_. Look at me, I'm _living_ proof."

"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?" The Doctor frowned, walking over to Martha, pointing at her. "I know! " _Back to the Future_ "! It's like " _Back to the Future_ "!"

Martha frowned, "The film?"

"No, the novelisation." said the Doctor, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. " _Yes_ , the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away." Martha continued before a gasp left her mouth, her hands flying up in sudden realisation. "Oh my God, am I gonna fade?"

"You and the entire future of the human race. It ends right _now_ in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?" He sighed deeply as his eyes surveyed the houses once again before the door to Lilith's house slowly opened in greeting. "Ah, make that _witch_ house." Strolling off towards the house, he pulled Martha long with hi, smirking. "I take it we're expected."

"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a _very_ long time." A young witch, Lilith, announced softly as the Doctor appeared.

"Right then, it's my turn." Martha stepped past him, suddenly engulfed with an assertive confidence. "I know how to do this." She pointed at Lilith sternly, "I name thee, Carrionite!" Lilith merely stared at Martha who frowned, disappointed and disheartened. "What did I do wrong?" She retracted her finger, looking at the Doctor. "Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only _once_. Observe, "Lilith pointed at Martha, "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now..." She smirked, eyeing up Martha before she spoke. "I name thee Martha Jones."

Martha's legs gave out beneath her, the Doctor barely managing to catch her in his arms as he lowered her to the ground. He glared up at Lilith, seething, "What have you done?"

"Only sleeping, alas." Lilith remarked thoughtfully, "Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time... and as for you, Sir Doctor!" She pointed at him, expecting him to crumple at the mention of his name, finding herself impressed to see him untouched. "Fascinating. There is _no_ name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair?" Lilith smirked when she found something else, something lingering under the surface, a more meaningful name lurking there. "Oh, but look... there's still _one_ word with the power that aches."

"The naming won't work on me."

Lilith smirked as she stared at him, "But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant..." Her hands trailed off her body as she danced away, " _Rose_."

"Oh, big mistake 'cos that name keeps me fighting!" He strode towards her in a sudden fervent rage, ignoring any further attempts of seduction. "The Carrionites vanished! Where did you go?" The Doctor demanded through gritted teeth.

"The Eternals found the _right_ word to banish us into deep darkness."

The Doctor frowned, "And how did _you_ escape?"

"New words." She told him, her eyes staring after him as she moved around the room, putting a distance between them. "New and glittering from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare." He breathed as Lilith smiled.

Her eyes found the cauldron where Shakespeare could be seen, weeping. "His son perished, the grief of a genius. Grief without measure." She explained with a soft sigh, "Madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?"

"Just the three." She admitted, her smile unwavering. "But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence, and from this world we will lead the universe back to the old ways of blood and magic."

"Hmm..." The Doctor frowned, "Busy schedule... but first you got to get past _me_." He moved to stand face-to-face with Lilith, mere inches from her, so close that he could feel the soft tickling of her breath against his cheek.

"Oh, that should be a pleasure considering my enemy has such a _handsome_ shape." She breathed, her words oozing with seduction as she ran her fingers along his face tenderly.

"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely _not_ gonna work on _me_."

"Oh, we'll see." She murmured, yanking a lock of hair from his head as she backed away.

The Doctor winced as he fingered his head, running a hand through it with a frown. "What did you _do_?"

"Souvenir."

"Well, give it back!" The Doctor started towards her as she threw her arms up and the window behind her jerked open, allowing her to fly out of it, levitating before him outside. Gaping, the Doctor frowned in annoyance, "Well, that's just _cheating_."

"Behold, Doctor." Lilith withdrew a doll and wrapped the lock of hair around it tightly, "Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets."

"Now, _you_ might call that magic..." The Doctor sighed in frustration as Martha gradually came around, " _I'd_ call that a DNA replication module."

"What use is your science now?" Lilith hissed as she stabbed the doll with such a ferocity that the Doctor let out a cry of pain, falling to the floor while Lilith flew away, cackling.

Clambering to her feet, Martha rushed over to him, her face falling in horror. "Oh my God! Doctor... don't worry, I've got you," She rolled him over so he was led on his back, listening for a heartbeat before pulling away in recollection of his physiology. "Hold on, mister. _Two_ hearts?"

"You're making a habit of this." He breathed, rising to his feet before stumbling as he cried out in a sudden pain, Martha supporting him. "I've only got one heart working... how do you people cope? I've got to get the other one started. _Hit me!_ Hit me on the chest!" Martha him on the functioning side which roused another cry from the Time Lord, "Other side!" She hit him again and he groaned, "On the back, on the back!" Martha did as she was told, "Left a bit!" When she hit him, he stretched, spine cracking as he steadied himself.

"Ah, lovely." He groaned, standing, this time successfully. "There we go. Ba-da-boom!" He flashed her a grin, "Well, what are you standing there for? _Come on!_ The Globe!" The Doctor rushed off with Martha following, rolling her eyes.

Sprinting through the streets, the Doctor darted down a street with a confused Martha following reluctantly, "We're going the wrong way!" She called, trying to get him to realise.

No, we're not!" He continued for a few more moments, allowing his feet to carry him before turning around and running back, "We're going the wrong way!"

* * *

Lilith, entering the box, seated herself between Doomfinger and Bloodtide, smiling devilishly as she looked down upon the stage. Doomfinger gazed at her expectantly, "The Doctor?"

"Dead." She affirmed as a frown crossed her face when she saw the play's progression being prevented, "What's happening?" She demanded, glancing between the two other witches on either side of her.

"It's the mortal..." Bloodtide pointed to Amara as she danced around the stage, "She's interfering with our work."

"Then we shall stop her."

"Puny men! To thine own self be true!" Amara sung, grinning widely as the audience cheered, eagerly encouraging her intervention, spurring her on surprisingly. "Thou will never abolish what may seem a shrew which ye already knew for thou are too few." She laughed, finding she rather liked rhymes, she enjoyed their simplicity and the enjoyment they crafted when spoken.

"Stop it!" Dick hissed lowly, his eyes glowing as he pushed her away. " _Get_ off the stage, you're ruining the play!"

"Ye is meek as a leek, all thou needs is a tweak in the beak."

"For God's sake, stop!" Dick cried in utter outrage while the audience laughed at the remark.

Amara smiled, twirling as the audience cheered until a forceful gust knocked her backwards, her balance compromised as she fell backwards, twisting in free-fall before tumbling down the stairs leading to the stage.

Satisfied with the distraction having been handled, Dick smiled, "The ladies have prepared a show. Maria means to present Isis descending from the dewy orb of Heaven." He glanced behind him to see Kempe entering, "Ah, here comes Costard."

Kempe bowed as the audience cheered, "Masters!"

Dragging herself to her feet, Amara frowned as she wiped the drizzle of blood from her nose, frowning when she felt her lip throbbing. Looking up, she gritted her when she saw the final speech proceeding.

Pushing through the crowd, she found the stairs blocked from the vast turn out and sighed, wondering if her plight of a climb would be worth it with her throbbing her head.

"Behold the swainish sight of woman's love." Dick announced to the audience, smiling, "Pish! It's out of season to be heavy disposed."

Amara glanced back as Dick continued with his speech, pushing herself up on the ground level box, reaching to clasp the banister of the one above, hoisting herself up as she hooked her legs around the pillar.

"Betwixt Dravidian shores and Linear five-nine-three-zero-one-seven point zero-two..." He paused momentarily, a frown of bemusement crossing his face, not understanding what he was saying. "And strikes the fulsome grove of Rexel four. Co-radiating crystal, activate!"

"The portal opens! It begins!" Lilith exclaimed as the three of them cackled, Amara's head snapping up as screams erupted from behind her, a red glow of energy emanating from the centre of the Globe.

Coming to a sudden halt, the Doctor and Martha gaped as they rounded a corner to be met with a symphony of screams that were erupting from inside the Globe, a crimson glow of energy have collected above the Globe as a preacher ran towards them.

"I told thee so! I told thee!" He shouted as he ran by.

"Stage door!" The Doctor exclaimed, rushing towards the Globe as thunder began to sound, lightning flickering, churning the glow.

They arrived backstage to see Shakespeare rubbing his head with a befuddled look, "Stop the play!" The Doctor exclaimed as William winced, "I think that was it... yeah, I said, " _Stop the play_ "!"

"I hit my head." He groaned, reaching up to rubbing his throbbing head, looking up at the Doctor and Martha.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." He remarked before he realised that Amara wasn't there, she should have been there with him... so where was she? He could feel the panic beginning to rise within him, and he struggled to suppress it as he turned to slowly look at William with a firm, simmering look. "Where's Amara?"

William sighed, "She's fierce that one. Fantastic spirit."

The Doctor bared his teeth, " _Where is she?!_ " He hissed as another chime of screams emerged from the stage, drawing his immediate attention. "I think that's my cue!" He turned to rush out, Martha helping Shakespeare as they made to follow him.

"The Doctor!" Lilith gasped in outrage, a dark look befalling her face. "He lives! Then watch this world become a blasted heath! They come! _They come!_ "

"Sorry, pardon me." Amara frowned as she was met with the terrified gazes of the people in the middle box, stretching to grasp the top as she hoisted herself up. "How are you finding tonight's performance?" She ducked as the freed Carrionites flew out from the crystal, swiping past her to swim around the Globe.

Glancing around the Globe, his hearts climbed into his throat when he saw Amara climbing up the central columns to get to the top box where the Carrionites were seated, swinging onto the middle one. "No..." He murmured, concern flooding through him as he turned to grab Shakespeare. "Come on, Will! History needs you!"

"But what can I do?" William breathed, startled at the sight he was met with.

"Reverse it!" The Doctor implored.

He eyed the Time Lord, "How am I supposed to do _that_?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Amara blanched when she saw them gathered on the stage, talking rather than doing anything. "Anytime today!" She exclaimed over the uproar before reaching for the final box, kicking off the middle with a heavy sigh.

"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius." The Doctor encouraged firmly, "The _only_ man clever enough to do it!"

"But _what_ words? I have none ready!"

"You're _William Shakespeare_!" The Doctor breathed, his eyes widening still as the swarm grew.

"Be _Shakespearean_!" Amara hollered over her shoulder as she slipped, hooking her under the banister as she scrambled to pull herself up, wincing at the strain on her limbs, screaming from the exhaustion.

"Amara!" The Doctor called, alerting the Carrionites in the top box to her movements.

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such _precision_!" Shakespeare argued.

The Doctor stared as Amara hooked herself over the box next to the top one, throwing herself over the top, "Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they?" He breathed, hooking William's attention. "Like magic. Words of the _right_ sound, the _right_ shape, the _right_ rhythm, words that last _forever_! That's what _you_ do, Will!" The Doctor told him, smiling as he urged him one, wanting to buy Amara more time. "You choose perfect words. Do it. _Improvise!_ "

"I'd appreciate some improvisation right about now!" Amara shouted from the top of the Globe as Bloodtide turned to face her, "Great Scott, you lot are _B-E-A-UTIFUL!_ I mean, look at your faces!" She exclaimed, edging back when the Carrionite pointed at finger at her.

"Kill her!" Lilith hissed.

Doomfinger cackled, "Do it now!"

Smirking, Bloodtide raised her hand as she pointed at Amara, awaiting as she hoped to install the woman with the fear of dying. "I name thee Amara!"

"Ah!" Amara clutched her chest, feigning pain as Lilith smirked before the Time Lady rolled her eyes, "Almost but no. Sorry..." She gave a sheepish smile.

Lilith hissed, scowling as she held Amara's gaze firmly before her eyes flickered to the edge of the box where she eyed a few strands of hair that had been caught as Amara forced herself over the box. "No matter," Lilith reached forward and grasped the strands of hair, wrapping them around the doll in Bloodtide's hand before forcing a pin into the doll's chest. "Death becomes you."

"That'll do it." Amara winced as she sunk to her knees, feeling her right heart cease in its rhythmic beating as she crumpled to the floor.

Losing sight of Amara, the Doctor's hearts leapt into his throat. "Now, Will!"

Sucking in a deep breath, William nodded. "Close up this den of hateful, dire decay!" He turned to the swarm, "Decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!" He flashed a wink at the Time Lord.

"No!" Lilith cried out, "Words of power!"

"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." He trailed off, looking towards the Doctor for help.

"Seven-six-one-three-nine-zero!"

"Seven-six-one-three-nine-zero! And banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." His eyes flew to the Doctor once again, who was at a loss, the Time Lord looking to Martha.

Martha shouted the first thing that sprung into mind: "Expelliarmus!"

"Expelliarmus!" The Doctor hollered with a laugh.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " William finished, his hand outstretched.

"Good old JK!" The Doctor beamed as he looked up at the dispersing swarm.

The Carrionites wailed as their numbers dwindled, "The deep darkness! They are consumed!" Lilith cried out as the Carrionites were sucked into the cloud like a vacuum, copies of play swirling around the Globe as they danced up into the cloud.

"" _Love's Labours Won_ "." The Doctor sighed softly, watching the cloud dissipate. "There it goes."

Miraculously, the audience breathed in relief and gradually, collectively, began to applaud as Shakespeare took Martha's hand, bowing.

Coughing, Amara banged on the right side of her chest before only just managing to smack herself on the back several times to get her right heart going again. With all the strength she could muster, Amara hauled herself over and rolled onto her back.

Reaching for the crystal, she stared at the three Carrionites trapped within, breathing heavily. " _Veni. Vidi. Amavi._ " Amara sighed, allowing her head to hit the floor as the pounding of footsteps rattled her brains.

"'Mara!" A pair of hands pulled her upright as the Doctor's face appeared, his concerned expression screaming as he stared at her. "Are you all right?" He breathed out when he saw her bloodied face properly as she struggled to stand solely, using him to help her.

"There's two of you, but that doesn't mean you're twice as handsome." Amara admitted with a slight smile as the Doctor chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her.

* * *

Amara smiled softly as she watched William dote upon Martha, attempting to kiss her as he flirted, thought failing to his disappointment.

Rubbing her face, she winced when she recalled the bloody state she was in as she held the crystal in her hands, brow furrowed when she looked down at the encased Carrionites, she felt slightly better.

"Good props store back there!" came the thrilled voice belonging to the Doctor as he emerged from backstage, wearing a ruff collar and carrying a rather large animal skull. "I'm not sure about this though," He commented, frowning at the skull. "Reminds me of a Sycorax... what d'you think, 'Mara?"

The woman tilted her head, "Don't remind me," She groaned, not wanting to recall the time in which she had almost been sold to a Sycorax.

"Sycorax." William murmured thoughtfully, "Nice word, I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on ten percent." The Doctor countered, her eyes gliding to Amara as she approached the stage.

"How's your head?" She asked him as William looked over at her, wincing at the sight of her face.

"Still aching." He told her softly, "Though, I doubt it's as bad as that..."

Amara shrugged as the Doctor removed the collar from his neck to pass it to the poet, "Here, I got you this," He tied the collar around Shakespeare's neck. "Neck brace, wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might want to keep it."

"It suits you," Amara complimented, smiling.

Martha looked to the Doctor, "What about the play?" She wondered, still hoping.

"Gone." The Doctor gave a shrug of his shoulders, "I looked all over, every single copy of " _Love's Labours' Won_ " went up in the sky."

"My lost masterpiece." He breathed, lamenting over the loss of the play.

"You could write it up again." Martha suggested, making Amara chuckled while the Doctor's eyes widened.

"Yeah, better not, Will." The Doctor advised, eyeing Martha for a moment as William turned to look at him. "There's still power in those words, maybe it should best stay forgotten."

"Oh, but I've got new ideas." He smiled to himself, "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."

" _Hamnet?_ " Martha repeated, raising an eyebrow at him.

"That's him."

"Ham-net?" Martha asked again.

William glanced at her, frowning, "What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off." The Doctor announced, "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot" he gestured to the crystal ball in Amara's hands, "can scream for all eternity and I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space." William pressed, arching a brow.

The Doctor blinked, startled and absolutely stunned, "You what?"

"You're from another world like the Carrionites and Martha is from the future. Though, I'm not too sure about Amara, she's hard to make out, a _mixture_ of the impossible." He smiled in amusement at the three of them, "It's not hard to work out."

"Touché." Amara grinned despite the ache in her face.

"That's..." The Doctor was stunned, utterly surprised that William knew, that he had clocked them, though they hadn't been very incognito about it. "Incredible. You are _incredible_."

"Well, the physic paper failed," Amara told the Doctor, "Why are you so surprised?"

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor." William commented with a smile before turning his attention back to Martha, "Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady." The Doctor scoffed, rolling his eyes as William ignored him. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate..."

"Will! Will!" Kempe called suddenly, running up the group, eyeing Amara as they strode past her. "You'll never believe it! She's _here_! She's turned up!"

"We're the talk of the town." Dick announced with a wide grin, "She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."

" _Who?"_ Martha frowned.

" _Her Majesty!_ She's here!"

At the entrance to the Globe, a symphony of trumpets erupted in unison as Queen Elizabeth the first entered, striding with a firm assertiveness.

"Queen Elizabeth the first!" The Doctor exclaimed, practically squealing with delight.

However, Elizabeth's eyes immediately widened in fury when they landed upon the Time Lord who was stood in awe, "Doctor!"

"What..."

"Why am I not surprised?" Amara sighed, rolling her eyes.

"My sworn _enemy_!" Elizabeth asserted curtly, pointing accusingly at the Time Lord who had been rendered speechless.

The Doctor gaped, "What?"

"What did you do?" Amara demanded, backing away as guards marched in, filing behind her.

"Off with his head!" She ordered immediately as the guards began to ascend on them from where they stood froze to where they stood, almost too frightened to move.

"What?" He repeated breathlessly.

"Never mind " _what_ ", just run!" Martha jumped to her feet as she flew past William, "See you, Will! And thanks!" She called after him as she joined the Doctor who was following Amara as they ran from the stage.

"Stop that pernicious Doctor!" Elizabeth exclaimed in outrage as Shakespeare laughed jubilantly as the predicament unfolded before his very eyes.

Darting down the street, Amara led them through the labyrinth that was London until she saw caught the familiar sight of the police box in the distance. "Stop in the name of the Queen!" a distant cry echoed as it reached their ears.

"What have you done to upset her?!" Martha demanded, barely managing to keep up as they rushed along the crowded streets, hearing the shouts from the guards in the distance.

"How should I know?" The Doctor countered with a shrug as he pushed through the crowds, "Haven't _even_ met her yet. That's time travel for you! Still, can't wait to find out." He grinned as he skidded to a stop, rooting around for the key to unlock the TARDIS, ushering Martha inside as Amara followed. "That's something to look forward to!"

"Hurry up!" Amara shouted as she saw an archer, "Duck!"

"Oh!" He ducked inside as the arrow shot through the air, embedding itself in the door as he rushed to the console, flicking and pressing, pushing several buttons as the TARDIS shifted. "That was a close call!"

Martha stared at him with bug eyes, her heart beating frantically, "Almost too close." She glowered at him before she turned to look at Amara, "Let me see to that cut."

"It's just a cut, Martha." She rolled her eyes when the Doctor returned with a first aid kit, opening it for Martha, "It's _fine_." She couldn't risk either of them getting too close to her, and she couldn't risk either one of them taking her pulse or listening to her chest.

"What happened out there?" Martha eyed for a moment, looking to the Doctor a few seconds later. "Can I have your stethoscope?" She smiled when he passed it to her without arguing. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No," Amara stood up, her tone uncharacteristically harsh and she winced, "I'm _fine_ , don't worry." She amended, though from the look Martha was giving, she knew that she'd given her a reason to not believe her. "Look, I tried to stop the play."

"I never asked for you to endanger yourself like that." The Doctor frowned, crossing his arms, oddly moved by how far she went to help. It was still odd, unsettling... "They named you, didn't they?"

"Yeah," She gave a nod, though she knew Martha knew she was lying. She'd slipped up, so simply by an action. "It wasn't like Will was going to be much help, was it? I managed to get in a few good rhymes as well, so no complaints there..."

The Doctor sighed and ceased in persisting to question her, though she felt Martha's lingering gaze and she knew that eventually the time would come to have to expose herself to the Time Lord's companion, even if it meant keeping the Doctor in the dark. Martha Jones was someone who could be trusted, but Amara didn't entirely trust just yet.

She'd trusted before, human, and they had exploited her trust and ruined her, condemned her. She knew that Martha wasn't anything like them, but she would wait... wait until she had seen Martha's true spirit before telling the woman anything of significance, and she didn't know how long it would be before such a thing came to pass.

She hoped it wouldn't be for quite some time, so she could prepare and fortify a plan to explain herself. And when she did tell, if she told her, she would have to ensure Martha kept it from the Doctor. He couldn't know of anything until the appropriate time arrived. Until then, he would continue to believe he was alone. That was paramount. If that failed, then her hard work would be for naught.

Her perseverance would be nothing. Not until she found him... once she had achieved her purpose, then he could know. He could know everything and anything about her... just not yet, as cruel as it was, he would have to wait.


	5. IV

Bounding into the control room, the Doctor beamed as he slapped his hands down on the console, turning to Martha as he made the poor woman jolt in surprise. "So, Martha Jones!" He flashed a grin, "Where would you like to go today?"

Martha stared up at him, frowning softly, though she was elated. "But I thought you said one trip _only_?"

"I say a _lot_ of things." He shrugged, dancing around the console as Amara handed Martha mug of tea, "Doesn't mean you should take whatever I say literally. After this, I'm taking you home." He rambled on, oozing with enthusiasm.

"Let 'Mara choose." Martha suggested, nodding to the other woman who scrunched up her face.

Amara shook her head, "I've been places. The universe is yours."

"Anywhere?" Martha asked.

The Doctor grinned, "Absolutely anywhere."

"This is exciting." Amara sat against the console and observed as Martha paused in thought, a deep frown pulling across her face as she tried to think of somewhere. " _Absolutely anywhere_."

It was frustrating; she wasn't too sure he would actually set the TARDIS to go where she wanted to, but seeing him so relaxed she had to think of something quick so she didn't ruin his good mood. Either he would or wouldn't, it was a simple as that. "In that case, then, I'd like to go to… to Mars. No _, wait_ \- no. _Yes_ , Mars." She answered as he groaned, falling against the console. "Bad choice, I take it?"

"Mars isn't _that_ bad, Spaceman." Amara reprimanded as he rolled his eyes.

"Ugh," He groaned, "Mars is so _dull_ and _boring!_ Why do you humans obsess over it, so much that you've got a chocolate bar named after it which I'll _never_ understand. Don't like those either. Mars... why _Mars,_ anyway? _Who_ likes Mars? _No one_ likes Mars."

Martha stared at him, stunned by his outburst. "I like Mars bars..."

Sighing, he sagged against the console and was silent for a couple of seconds. "We could visit more historical events, go into the futures... see better planets like Apalapucia, Barcelona..." He frowned when the sudden memory of Rose came flooding back as he recalled he'd always wanted to take her there, to show her... "There's Felspoon... Midnight sounds like a right treat, pampering pleasure all that jazz..."

Amara smiled at the Doctor, "Now that you mention jazz, what about Zazz?"

"A planet of human jazz enthusiasts?" He grinned at her, wagging his brows, "What's not to love?"

Sighing, Amara frowned in thought. "I always fancied visiting San Helios someday... nice holiday spot, that one." She offered with a shrug, giving suggestions as Martha seemed at a loss.

The Doctor at her for a long moment, "I would never have said you were a sun person... _well_ ," The Doctor sighed in thought, "What about Raxacoricofallapatorius? That would be- "

Martha shook her head. "They're not real, you've just made those up... as if there's a planet called _Zazz._ "

"They all exist." The Doctor argued, his hands falling to his hips.

"I wish he had." Amara told her, wincing as she glanced at him, recalling the entire incident with the Slitheen and never wanting to meet them again. "Could we _not_ go to Raxacoricofallapatorius?"

"It's not my fault you have a bad relationship with them."

She frowned, she never asked to be faced with hoard of them in the centre of London. "They have a bad relationship with _everyone_." It was true; she had only managed to escape them the last time she'd ran into them.

He nodded, "True." He recalled his last encounter with them during the their invasion of London, and it hadn't been particularly pretty. Amara wasn't wrong there.

"You did ask _me_ where _I_ wanted to go."

The Doctor sighed, "Yes, I did," He flung out his arms as he looked up at the time rotor with a frown, "Why is it always Mars? It's either that or can we go back and stop Hitler, can we go back to the sixties, fifties, the French Revolution... can we go and find your butterflies..."

"What's wrong with that?" Martha pressed as Amara laughed, a heart-felt sound that escaped her mouth in pure amusement at his reaction.

"You can't interfere with major events like that!" The Doctor sighed in frustration, "You _just_ can't."

Martha scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Except when kidnapping women..."

"Never meet your own self either," He paused in his movements, giving her a forceful look, his brow furrowing deeply. " _Oh_ , you just want to pop in and say " _hi_ " to the Martians?" He waved his hands in the air, "And I did not ' _kidnap_ ' you. _Either_ of you. You _both_ agreed."

"Mars! _Mars!_ MARS!" The Doctor suddenly slammed his down on the console, causing several dials to wheeze in protest. "Why the Martians?!"

Martha looked over at Amara with a raised brow, "Right, he did ask me, didn't he?" She asked the other woman who smiled. "You witnessed it, and he's ruining it. So... w _here_ do _you_ want to go then?"

"Utterly pointless, really," Amara breathed, folding her arms as she glanced between the pair of them. "Anyway, Spaceman, seeing as Martha doesn't have any taste perhaps _you_ should just pick somewhere..." Amara smiled at Martha, "Preferably with no butterflies."

The Doctor scoffed, " _Enough_ with the butterflies." He closed his eyes in frustration, having heard enough of the pair of them throwing phrases with butterflies at him like they were playing squash. "You're both obsessed, you might as well create a cult."

"I like butterflies." Martha argued.

"Butterflies united." Amara added with a grin.

"So, somewhere new..." He mulled over his thoughts as they churned in his head, drumming his fingers over his temple, before cautiously nodding. " _Ooh_... I know just the place, hang on!"

The TARDIS rocketed backwards suddenly, causing Martha to stumble back, gripping the nearest beam to steady herself as the Doctor pulled some levers, flicking a few others, twisting and pressing... "So, new... new, new... _new_. New."

Martha watched him for a few moment, hesitant before she eventually spoke. "Can't we go to your planet?"

Martha knew she had said the wrong thing as he stilled, freezing where he stood, stopping what he was doing as his shoulders sagged, leaning over the console for a moment as though they had just had a domestic fight.

Her eyes flickered over to Amara, who was staring at him intently, her eyes solemn, and Martha, concerned, continued speaking as her words spilled out from her mouth in a hastily manner. She never meant to seem insensitive.

"Maybe another time?" Amara suggested softly as the Doctor looked up at her, watching her.

As he looked at her, he wondered if Jack had told her about Gallifrey, had told how it had burned... Slowly, he began to move again, animated as he delved around the console while Martha watched him as he acted as though she hadn't spoken at all. "Ah," He breathed, "Why would we want to go there when there are so many other places to visit?" He looked over at her and saw the evident disappointment on her face, "Maybe we'll go... not today."

Amara had grown rigid at the mention of Gallifrey, knowing that the Doctor was feeling the very same, although Martha hadn't meant to cause the feeling of unease. She studied his face for a few moments before moving to take his hand.

Martha shifted uneasily on her feet when she saw Amara move, knowing that she had said something wrong beside she _could_ tell. She just didn't know _what_. "What is it?"

His expression was unreadable, his eyes glued to Amara's hand in his own as her thumb circled over his knuckles.

"I bet it's brilliant," Martha exclaimed, smiling, "Great big temples, towers, and cathedrals, and all that?"

Amara watched him as she held his gaze, and she thought he wasn't going to answer... but then she felt his hand tighten around her as he started to speak.

"The sky's a burnt orange." The Doctor's voice was soft, distant as he held Amara's gaze as though she was guiding him through it. "With the Citadel enclosed in a mighty glass dome, shining under the twin suns. Beyond that, the mountains go on for ever... slopes of deep red grass, capped with snow." He murmured, his voice so quiet and fragile that it broke Amara's heart.

He fell silent again, and Martha's breath caught in her throat as he stared at Amara.

His mood changed and he drew his hands away, smiling before his hands blurred over the controls on the console. "I know exactly where to go!" He sung grinning suddenly as he danced excitedly. "You'll _love_ it."

The TARDIS jerked suddenly, shifting as they all grabbed onto the console to keep themselves upright and steady.

"I don't want to go home! Why would I waste this last trip to bore you by taking you to my home?" He exclaimed, continuing to dance around as he smiled, eyeing Amara as she tweaking a few settings. "Nah..."

Thankfully, the landing was smooth, settling immediately as they all stood back, letting go of the console. Martha grinned, "So, where are we?"

"Last time I was here... " Amara eyed the screen of the monitor, frowning once she'd registered the coordinates. "It was significantly cheerier."

"Wait, what? You've been... that thing is cheating, by the way." The Doctor threw her Vortex Manipulator a dark look, shaking his head before looking at Martha. "Year five billion and fifty-three, fifty thousand light years from planet Earth!" He announced with a wide grin, "Second hope of mankind! Fifty thousand light years from your old world, and we're slap bang in the middle of New New York."

"Although," Amara sighed, "Technically it's the fifteenth New York from the original, so..." She flashed the Doctor a grin, "It's New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, New, _New_ York!" They finished together as Martha laughed.

"One of the most dazzling cities ever built." The Doctor added, smiling widely.

Dashing off, the Doctor seized his coat and pulled it on eagerly, shrugging it on. He paused, wincing slightly... the last time he'd been here was with Rose, and he knew, he knew, he was still holding onto the past and he didn't want to let go of her memory. He had no idea why he'd taken them to somewhere he'd shared with Rose. It wasn't fair. "Come on!"

Amara grabbed her jacket, shrugging it on as she made to follow the Doctor, with Martha following as she jogged through the door into an unexpected deluge of rain. "Oh, that's nice!" Martha whined as she hurriedly zipped up her as she blanched, having been met with the pouring rain. "Time Lord version of _dazzling_."

"Nah, bit of rain never hurt anyone," He sighed, feeling the rain pelt his hair, causing the volume of his hair to retract closer to his scalp. "Come on, let's get under cover." He pulled Martha long with him, frowning when he saw Amara stood in the rain with a slight smile on her face.

Amara had always loved the rain, the feel of it upon her skin as it ascended from the heavens above. It was a wonderful sensation. "If it _never_ rains, nothing will _ever_ grow."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, grabbing her arm sharply before slinging an arm over her shoulders. "Whatever you say, naturist... we don't want you getting a cold." He informed her curtly as he looked over at Martha, "Doctor Jones here will have something to say about that, won't you?"

Martha rolled her eyes as Amara huffed, "So now I frolic about naked among the trees? _Wonderful_." She paused in thought, frowning as they passed piles of rubbish upon rubbish. "I think I preferred mortal."

"If you want to catch a cold, by all means, stand in the rain." He countered, raising a brow in challenge.

"So, you want me to get ill?" Amara frowned, feigning a hurtful expression as she pouted. "Is it because you hope it will render me witless, so you can retain some of your bravado without feeling threatened, Spaceman?"

"You're ridiculous."

Amara shook her head, moving past him to lead them along, "No, I'm practical." She found herself coming to enjoy their playful banter, the tossing of comments to try and get a rise out of the other; it was definitely something she never expected. She did, to her own growing annoyance, rather like the Doctor. "I think you'll find you're the ridiculous one... you are the one who kidnaps women."

"Here we go," Martha breathed, rolling her eyes, "Thanks, 'Mara."

"For God's sake!" The Doctor groaned, still irritated that they still mentioned the whole " _kidnapping_ " malarkey. He did not kidnap people. "No, no, and _no_. For the last time, I do _not_ kidnap people. I have _not_ kidnapped _anyone_ in my life!"

"You need to chill out, Sawbones." Amara threw him a grin as his face contorted.

His eyes widened, " _Sawbones?_ " He repeated in outrage, realising that she was quite good at getting a reaction out of him and easily by the looks of it.

"Guys," Martha sighed, trying to intervene as they passed comments back and forth like a tennis match, finding that while she enjoyed watching the Doctor get flustered, she didn't know whether to she could handle for most of the day. "Enough, come on."

Amara tapped her chin in thought, "Would you prefer _quack_?"

The Doctor gave a deep sigh as he tried to think of a word that would annoy her despite the warning look Martha sent him. "Oh, you... _greaser_." He couldn't resist.

"So, I'm _now_ unskilled as well as naturist? A bit harsh, but all right. I'll be sure to add those to me resume." Amara gave a shrug of her shoulders, turning her back on him as she strode along the sodden street. "I think the TARDIS would have something to say about that, Spaceman."

His face fell at her reaction, wondering if he had really upset her... it had been a joke. He would never mean that; he was grateful for her help! "Come on," He jogged up beside her but she wouldn't look at him. "Now, I'm _never_ going to call you that or my flaxen temptress, or delectable ivory damsel. Are we good?"

"God forbid..." Amara sighed as they past a hoard of dumpsters, old laundry swinging from a line, saturated and forgotten. She looked at the Doctor. "We were never bad."

He smiled for a moment, frowning and then smiling again. "Oh... you're good. _Oh_ , I like you." He grinned as they continued to venture through a vast forest of dumpsters, ducking under several lines of forgotten washing.

"Well, it looks like the same old Earth to me." Martha breathed, slightly disappointed as she cast her eyes around her. "Reminds me of a Wednesday afternoon to be honest."

"Hold on, hold on... " The Doctor paused at a monitor buried within a wall, ushering them over to it. "Let's have a look," withdrawing his sonic, he flashed it at the screen for a couple of moments and static appeared, hissing as it buzzed on the screen.

Frowning, he banged against the monitor until a woman flickered into view. " _... and the driving should be clear and easy, with fifteen extra lanes open for the New New Jersey expressway_." She was saying, her smile very ache-like as the three of them watched her.

"Oh, that's more like it! That's the New we had last time." The Doctor beamed, busting with excitement. "This must be the lower levels." He shrugged, glancing around them, "Down in the base of the tower, some sort of under-city."

"You've brought me to the slums?" Martha asked, feigning annoyance through a smile.

"Much more interesting! It's all cocktails and glitter up there. This is the _real_ city."

"Fantastic," Amara sighed, smiling slightly.

Martha laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "You'd enjoy anything."

"That's me." The Doctor nodded, grinning, "Oh, the rain's stopping!" His grin widened when he noticed the sky clearing, "Better and better!"

Martha thought for a moment, "When you say " _last time_ ", was that you and Rose?" Martha pressed despite knowing Rose was a generally touchy subject with him.

"Um, yeah." He scratched the back of his head as he cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Yeah, it was, yeah."

"You're taking me to the _same_ planets that you took her?"

"What's wrong with that?" The Doctor looked over at her, perplexed.

"Nothing." Martha replied shortly, realising that he was using her to recreate memories of Rose. "Just... _ever_ heard the word " _rebound_ "?"

Amara sent the other woman a sympathetic look, "Don't be silly, Jones," Walking towards her, she set an arm around her shoulders, pulling her along. "Let's look around... and see if we can find some souvenirs. I _love_ souvenirs."

"One to bash his head in with would be nice." Martha added which made Amara chuckle.

As they strode past, a man suddenly flipped open the top of a large verdant box, revealing a street vendor's cart. They paused as a chain reaction unfolded before their eyes; more vendors began to appear until they were cornered on both sides. "Oh," the first grinned, waving them over, "You should have said.. how long you been there? _Happy!_ You want happy!"

"Customers!" hollered another, smiling, "Customers! We've got customers!"

"We're in business!" another bellowed, "Mother, open up the Mellow, and the Read!"

"Happy, Happy, lovely happy _Happy!_ " the first exclaimed as he dangled what looked like stickers in their faces as if he was teasing them.

" _Anger!_ " The second looked as though she was going to burst, "Buy some Anger!"

"Get some Mellow, makes you feel all bendy and soft all day long!" the last added, smiling at them.

"Younger, them." The first told them, leaning over to eye them more closely, "They'll rip you off. Do you want some happy?"

"No, thank you." Shaking her head, Amara glanced between the vendors as her arm fell from Martha's shoulders, frowning at the patches. "We're good."

"Are they selling _drugs_?" Martha asked.

"I think they're selling _moods_." The Doctor corrected her with a frown.

Martha glanced at the vendors in uncertainty, "Same thing, isn't it?"

Behind them, a bedraggled woman wandered through an alleyway, huddled as she held herself, walking towards the vendors.

"Over here, sweetheart!" the third hollered, "That's it, come on, I'll get you first!"

"Oi!" the first called out to the woman, "Oi, you! Over here! _Over here!_ Buy some Happy!"

"Come over here, yeah." The third beamed as she approached her, "And what can I get you, my love?"

"I want to buy Forget." The woman told her.

"I've got Forget, my darling. What strength? _How_ much you want forgetting?"

"It's my mother and father. They went on the motorway."

"Oh, that's so sweet." The vendor remarked, reaching behind her to pull out a small circular patch, holding it out to the woman. "Try this, Forget Forty-three. That's two pence.

The woman handed over the payment, turning away with the patch in her hand, "Sorry... but, hold on a minute," The Doctor approached her carefully, in concern. "What happened to your parents?"

"They drove off." She answered.

"They might drive _back_."

"Everyone goes to the motorway in the end." Her eyes glistened with tears, "I've lost them."

"But they can't have gone far... you could find them." He told her earnestly as she merely looked at him for a few moments before sticking the patch to her neck, "No, no, no – _don't!_ "

Despite his attempts, he was too late. As soon as the patch touched the woman's neck, her expression transitioned immediately. She seemed delirious and serene, evidently unaware of where she was. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Your parents." Amara frowned, folding her arms over chest as she regarded the woman. _Why would she do that?_ "Your mother and father, you just told us they're on the motorway."

"Oh, did I? That's nice." The woman smiled at her as a disturbed look crossing Martha's face, looking over to the Doctor who sighed. "I'm sorry, I won't keep you." She turned away, moving away as the three of them stared at her, all wearing frowns.

"That's the future for you," Amara breathed.

"So, that's the human race five billion years in the future." Martha sighed, still shaken and upset from the encounter with the woman, "Off their heads on chemicals."

The Doctor went to reply but two figures sprang out from behind the two women, carrying guns, seizing their necks and they pulled them back. A man grabbed Amara, wrapping an arm around her neck while the woman yanked Martha back, doing the same as she pointed her gun at the Doctor, shaking.

"Oi, goon," Amara elbowed him in the gut, causing him to jolt back, his arms around her neck restricting. _Not the most practical idea..._ She could barely hear herself think through Martha's screams.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, _really_ sorry." The man shouted, as the woman holding the gun shook, he pulled Amara back while the woman did the same to Martha. "We just need three, that's all."

"Can't you count?! You've got _four!_ " Amara exclaimed despite the arm at her throat, though she didn't put a fight like Martha who was thrashing about. The man stilled for a moment, contemplating what she'd said, and she immediately grasped Martha' arm. No way was she going to let her be taken alone. _No way_.

Desperate, the Doctor stumbled forwards to try and reach for them as his eyes grew wide, being forced back when the woman pointed her gun at him. "No, let them go!" He exclaimed, seething, eyes frantic. "I'm warning you, let them go! Whatever you want, I can help. The three of us, we can help you. But first, you have to _let_ them go!"

"I'm sorry." The woman cried out, almost bursting into tears as she pulled back Martha, backing away from the Doctor. "I'm really sorry. _Sorry!_ " They disappeared around a corner, the Doctor sprinting after them as a door slammed shut.

Baring his teeth in frustration, the Doctor had no choice but to wrestle with the faulty door as they were dragged away.

Banging a fist on the door in frustration, he struggled with opening it, knowing that they were getting further and further away from him the longer the door stalled him. Sighing, he began to root around in his pocket, "Sonic..." Using it open the door, he yanked it open, flying through it as fast as he could. He would not lose them, not like he lost Rose.

Not too far away, the couple had dragged Martha and Amara to a deserted street where a car lay waiting for them. Despite Amara attempting to calm her, Martha still fought the woman at every given chance, "The Doctor is _so_ gonna kill you, and never mind him, _I'm_ gonna kill you myself!"

Amara sighed, wondering if Martha would realise that if she stopped struggling, she would be _fine_. The man, having realised that she wasn't resisting, had let her run the way herself. Even if she did escape, there was no way she was going to run off and leave Martha by herself either... "Martha, you _need_ to calm down." She'd met muggers, assailants or whatever before, and these two were nothing like them, so she guessed there was an external motive.

"You should listen to your friend." The man advised.

"Let go of me!" Martha threw herself from the woman's grasp, breaking free for a moment before the man pulled her back again.

"Give her some Sleep."

"Oh, you don't have to do that." Amara tried to reason with him, knowing that Martha wouldn't appreciate it _at all_.

" _Don't you dare!_ " Limbs erupting as a frenzy in the air, Martha screamed, thrashing about once again. " _Don't_ put that stuff in me, don't! Get _off_ me!"

"Martha, calm down." Amara repeated, sternly, though she didn't catch on that it would be better for her to do so.

"It's just Sleep Fourteen." The woman shrugged off, reaching into the car behind her and retrieving a patch much like the woman from earlier had bought.

Amara eyed it as the woman moved to press it to Martha's neck while she continued to scream and shout. "Don't fight it..." She told her, looking upset as she persisted, pressing it to the space below her ear.

Martha drooped immediately, "That's it... come on..." Amara took her from the man as she and the woman helped her into the car, adjusting her to she was lying on her side.

"She'll be all right?" Amara glanced at the woman with a frown, "She's a medical professional..."

The woman nodded, "She's all right, her breathing's normal and pulse is fine, no harm done." She eyed Amara for a moment, "You both look rich – did you get lost or something?"

"Something like that."

"I'm Milo, by the way," The man called from the front as he hand flicked several switches. "Engaging anti-gravs, hold on."

The woman smiled, steadying herself against the table Martha was on. "I'm Cheen," She held out her hand for Amara to shake, which she did just as the car slowly rose into the air, the engines rocketing as they powered up.

She went to reply when a shout from outside sounded, "Martha! 'Mara!" The frantic voice of the daughter rang out which made Amara wince. He was going to have to come and find them which, at the moment, seemed like an impossible job.

"I'm Amara," She told the couple, still frowning though she forced a smile, "This is Martha," She gestured to the woman asleep as Cheen made her way to the front of the car.

"Nice to meet you," Cheen grinned at Amara.

Amara didn't know whether to despair at having been kidnapped with Martha unconscious, or to be grateful that they had such nice kidnappers. "Ditto."

Milo, grinned, pulling out a vocal transmitter. "This is car Four-Six-Five diamond six. We have four passengers, repeat _four_." He glanced at Cheen who was smiling widely, "Request access to the fast lane."

" _Access granted_." An automated voice trilled back.

"Oh, yes." Milo cheered, leaning over to give Cheen a kiss.

Pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, Amara sighed, having no idea where she was going or how to get out the situation... "Oh, tickety-boo for you two!" She mumbled, feeling at a loss.

* * *

Having retreated, the Doctor allow his shoulders to sag, a deep frown across his face. He couldn't believe he had let them slip through his hands like that, as though they were syrup. He had no clue how to get them back, or how to... He paused, his frown lifting.

Racing back down the labyrinth of alleys, he turned and dove into the street clearing and launched himself at a vendor's door, pounding on it.

It flipped up to reveal the woman who had sold the Forget from earlier. Seeing him, she beamed and leaned over the countertop. "Thought you'd come back! Do you some happy Happy?"

Seething, he barely managed to maintain his anger. His friends had been kidnapped as she was there trying to sell him some bloody mood he didn't need as though his life depended on it. "Those people, _who_ were they?" He demanded through bared teeth, almost wanting to reach over the countertop and grab her, "Where did they take them?"

"They've taken them to the motorway," The first vendor emerged, wary.

"Looked like carjackers to me." said the woman with a frown.

"I'd give up now, darling." The second advise, showing her face as well as the Doctor started to pace anxiously. "You won't see them again."

"Used to be thriving in this place." The first sighed nostalgically, "You couldn't move, but they all go to the motorway in the end."

Spinning around, he eyes them all at once, "He kept on saying three, " _we need three_ ". What did he mean, _three_?"

"It's the car-sharing policy, to save fuel." The woman informed him curtly, "You get special access if you're carrying three adults."

"This motorway, how do I get there?" The Doctor wondered, arching a brow.

"Straight down the alley, keep going to the end. You can't miss it." The Doctor strode off in the direction she'd gestured to, "Tell you what, how 'bout some happy Happy? Then you'll be smiling, my love!" She added which made him halt, jolting around to face them again.

Glaring, his gritted his teeth, "Word of advice, all of you. Cash up. Close down. And pack your bags."

"Why's that, then?"

"Because as soon as I've found them, alive and well..." The Doctor paused, eyeing each of them individually before he continued, "And I _will_ find them, _alive and well_ , then I'm coming _back_. And this street is _closing_. _Tonight!_ "

They glanced at each other apprehensively as he stormed off again, this time not turning back, rigid as the doors rattled shut.

* * *

Leaning against the chairs at the front of the car, Amara watched the screen as the icon descended, moving from level seventeen to level twenty-one. "Where are you heading?" She asked the pair, eyeing the screen and not noticing Martha coming around from the back of the car. "Anywhere nice?"

"Brooklyn," Milo answered with a grin.

Amara nodded, "Sounds nice."

"It is!" Cheen beamed up at her, "The view from the windows, they say you can see all the way out to the flatlands."

"Really?" Amara had tried to dislike them, she had but despite being kidnapped by them, their intentions were good. They wanted a life, and she didn't want to deny them that chance. They seemed like good people, Martha had just reacted poorly.

"The sky..." Cheen paused in thought, another smile crossing her, "They say the air smells like apple grass. Can you imagine?"

Amara couldn't help but smile back, seeing the woman so happy at the prospect of seeing the sky. "Can't say I've ever smelt air like apple grass before." Cheen laughed at the reply.

"The houses are made of wood, and there's jobs going in the foundries. Everyone says so!" Milo added, his own excitement taking its toll.

"So," Amara thought for a second, "All this just to get to the surface?"

Cheen blanched and sighed, "It's the car-sharing policy, and the system's automated." She explained as Amara caught sight of the patch she wore on her neck, squinting to read the writing that said " _honesty_ ". "We just needed- "

"But that doesn't make sense." Amara interrupted suddenly, a deep frown pulling across her face. They were going down to go up... _where was the sense in that?_ To go up, you go _up_. Not down. Down was _down_. "Why would you need to go down to go up?"

Cheen went to speak again until a noise sounded from behind them as Martha rolled off the table, having snatched the gun Cheen had taken earlier, pointing it at the woman and Milo. "Take us back!" Martha shouted, holding the gun with both hands as they looked past Amara to see the other woman wide awake. "Whoever you are, just take us back to our friend. That's _all_ we want. I won't cause any trouble." She sighed, composing herself, "Just take us back!"

Amara rolled her eyes. "Martha, put it down." A great idea considering there was _nowhere_ to go. She reached out to take the fake firearm from her but she snatched her hands away. "Put it down," She repeated, firmer as Martha looked at her. "It's not real."

"She's right," Cheen agreed with a faint nod, "That's not a _real_ gun."

Martha scoffed, "Yeah, well, you would want her to say that, wouldn't you?" She spared a look at Amara, sighed and slumped, handing the fake gun to her as she despaired.

Setting the prop down, Amara squeezed Martha's hand as Cheen turned to look at the shaken woman. "Martha, I'm Cheen and this is Milo." She introduced with a small smile and Martha's face contorting slightly at the mention of her name.

"You told them my name?" Martha's eyes flew to Amara as she gingerly moved toward the front of the car to stand beside her.

Sighing, Amara knew Martha would have warmed to her telling their kidnappers her name. "Being hostile isn't going to do us any favours." It would it only make their predicament more difficult.

"I swear we're sorry. We're really, _really_ sorry." Cheen turned to Martha again, sincere and looking genuinely guilty for having taken them like that. "We just needed access to the fast line, but I promise, as soon as we arrive, we'll drop you off and you can go back and find your friend."

Martha eyed closely, "Seriously?"

"I swear! Look." Cheen pulled back her hair to reveal a patch sat under ear, the one Amara had spotted earlier, this time clearly reading the word " _honesty_ ". "Honesty patch."

"All the same, that's still kidnapping!" Martha argued, glaring.

"Sounds like a hobby our Time Lord specialises in to me." Amara smiled when she saw a hint of smile tugged at the corner's of Martha's mouth, feeling triumphant. Looking forwards again, she propped an arm on the back of Milo's headrest. "He'll find us."

"Where are we, anyway?" Martha added with a frown.

"We're on the motorway." Milo told them.

"What's that, then?" Martha pointed as she squinted, unable to see past a grey haze outside of the car which was cleaning to its windows. "Fog?"

"That's the exhaust fumes." Cheen answered, though Amara founds it rather odd that the fumes weren't being vented. How was anyone supposed to see?

"We're going out to Brooklyn." Milo told her, "Everyone says the air's so much cleaner, and we couldn't stay in Pharmacy Town, 'cause..." He rubbed Cheen's knee as she grinned up at the two women behind them.

"Well, 'cause of me." She sighed, glowing as another smile crossed her lips. "I'm pregnant. We only discovered it last week. Scan says it's going to be a boy."

Amara smiled when Milo grinned, thrilled as Cheen was. "Congratulations." She told the pair of them, finding their predicament all the more understandable seeing as they were expecting.

"You're joking?" Martha scoffed in outrage, sending Amara's a disappointed look. She couldn't believe she was being so nice to their captors. They had kidnapped them, and she seemed best friends with them. "Congratulating our kidnappers? Just great."

"We're in safe hands," Amara gave a soft sigh.

"Oh, we're _not_ kidnappers." Cheen smiled, shaking her head at Martha. "Not _really_."

"Nope. You're idiots! You're having a _baby_ , and you're wearing that?" Reaching forward, she ripped the honesty patch from Cheen's neck as the woman yelped in pain. "Not anymore."

Amara glowered at her friend, "Martha!" She chided, wishing she would be a little kinder to pair of them before beginning to laugh, wrap an arm around Martha, "Told you she was a medical professional."

"This'll be as fast as we can," Milo promised, "We'll take the motorway to the Brooklyn flyover, and then after that it's gonna take awhile, 'cause then there's no fast lane, just ordinary roads, but at least it's direct."

Cheen beamed, "It's only ten miles."

"How long is it gonna take?" Martha pressed, suddenly eager about seeing the Doctor again.

"About six years."

Amara blinked, not sure if she had heard correctly.

"What?" Martha breathed.

"Be just in time for him to start school." The couple shared a laugh as Amara felt all her breath leave her.

"Nope." Martha frowned, shaking her head, "Sorry, hold on... six years? Ten _miles_ in six _years_? How come?"

Amara didn't know to cry or to laugh. "Well, isn't this hunky-dory..." She breathed, at a loss for words as she comprehended how long they were going to be stuck in the car if the Doctor never found them.

* * *

The comforting buzz of his sonic met his ears as he forced open a large door, the lock pinging with a loud clang, yanking it back to step through onto a platform.

His eyes widened a he stared at the thousand of cars before him, _millions_ , everywhere and all going in the same direction. He coughed, choking on the air as he was met with a heavy smog. Covering his mouth with his arm, he choked again as the door to one of the cars slid open.

Behind it a figure covered in protect gear ushered him in, "Hey! You daft little street strut! What are you doing, _standing there_? Either get out or get in! Come on!" Rushing forward despite his coughing fit, the Doctor flew through the door and into the car. "Did you ever see the like?"

A woman sat at the front of the car turned and passed him an oxygen mask which he took gratefully, "Here you go." She smiled.

"Just standing there, breathing it in!" The man pulled of his goggles, cap and scarf to reveal feline features of the Catkind. "There's this story that says back in the old days, on Junction Forty-Seven, this woman stood in the exhaust fumes for a solid twenty minutes. By the time they found her, her head had swollen to _fifty_ feet!"

"Oh, you're making it up."

He moved to the front of the card, sliding into the driver's seat, "A fifty-foot head! Just _think_ of it. Imagine picking that nose."

"Stop it. That's _disgusting_."

"What?" He smirked at the woman, "Did you never pick your nose?"

Sitting up, she tapped him on the arm and gestured in front of them. "Bran, we're _moving_!" She exclaimed in excitement which made the Doctor frowned in confusion at her evident surprise.

"Right. I'm there, I'm on it!" He yanked a lever on the console causing the engines in the back of the cars to eject smog, spurting forwards with a start, jolting the Doctor as horns echoed outside. "Twenty yards! We're having a good day." They shared a smile before looking back at the Doctor who had pulled off the oxygen mask. "And who might you be, sir? Very well-dressed for a hitchhiker."

"Thanks." He handed the mask back, "Sorry, I'm the Doctor."

"Medical man! Ha-ha!" The man grinned, "My name's Thomas Kincade Brannigan, and this is the bane of my life, the lovely Valerie."

The woman, Valerie, smiled. "Nice to meet you."

"And that's the rest of the family behind you." Brannigan gestured behind as the Doctor turned, drawing back a curtain to reveal a basket of mewling kittens.

The Doctor grinned, "Aww, that's nice... hello," He gently reached out to them as Brannigan and Valerie shared a look. Turning back to them, he held a small black kitten in his hands. "How old are they?"

"Just two months." Valerie smiled.

"Poor little souls," Brannigan sighed softly, "They've never known the ground beneath their paws." He looked up to see the Doctor eyeing him while sporting a perplexed expression. "Children of the motorway."

"What, they were born in _here_?" He glanced around at the small car, he couldn't see how they could raise a family in such a tiny space compared to something like the TARDIS.

"We couldn't stop," Valerie began, sighing, "We heard there were jobs going, out in the laundries on Fire Island... thought we'd take a chance."

"What? You've been driving for _two_ months?"

"Do I look like a teenager?" Brannigan grinned, "We've been driving for twelve years now."

The Doctor blinked, not sure if he heard him correctly. "I'm... I'm sorry?"

"Yeah! Started out as newlyweds! Feels like yesterday."

"Feels like twelve years to me." Valerie remarked with a wry smile.

Brannigan beam at her, "Ahh, sweetheart, but you're still lovely." He tickled her as she laughed, seemingly forgetting the length of their journey in the confines of the car.

"Twelve years?!" The Doctor exclaimed, his worry starting to consume him. If it had taken them twelve years to travel... what if he never found them again? What if they waited and waited and he never... "How far did you come? Where did you start?" He demanded, needing to know.

"Battery Park. It's five miles back."

"You travelled _five_ miles in _twelve_ years?" He breathed, his hearts suddenly thumping in his chest... he couldn't believe... _No_. He'd promised to take Martha home, and at this rate, the chances of that seemed slim. And with Amara, he seemed to be an expert at losing her lately. It felt odd not having her reassurance without her being around... he made him uneasy.

"I think he's a bit slow." Brannigan sighed as the Doctor put the kitten back.

"Where are you from?" Valerie wondered.

"Never mind that, I've got to get out." He sighed, pacing slightly. He was struggling to think straight. "My friends are in one of these cars... They were taken hostage. I should get back to the TARDIS." Yanking the door open, he went to flee but he was greet by nothing but the cloud of smog from the exhaust fumes.

"You're too late for that," Brannigan stepped up beside him as the Doctor began to cough, rolling his eyes, he closed the door again. "You're a passenger now, Sonny Jim!"

"When's the next lay-by?" He demanded urgently, eyes frantic.

"Oh..." Brannigan thought for a moment, "Six months?" He wondered aloud as the Doctor gaped.

* * *

 _Damn telepathic circuits_... The bloody things drove her insane. While she had Martha to contend with in the car, on the other end, she to block out the Doctor's erratic anxiousness from wherever he was on the motorway. With the Time Lord being who he was, she knew that he would persist until he found them again – she also knew that he was willing to do something stupid, something like hopping from car-to-car until he found him. It was in his nature.

But if he did that, that would mean... that would mean he would be susceptible to the exhaust fumes. He would poison his body, and the respiratory bypass... _Bugger it._

"How many cars are out there?" Martha asked, drawing Amara's attention as the woman attempted to distract herself from the prospect of potentially being trapped in a car for _months_ , for _years_.

Amara shrugged, briefly looking at the window before smiling, "Where we're going, we don't need roads..."

Martha sent her a look, not appreciating her channeling her Doctor Brown from " _Back_ _to_ _the_ _Future_ ". "Not helping, 'Mara."

"I don't think anyone knows." Cheen said as she reached for something, holding out a wafer to Amara and Martha. "Here you go. Hungry?"

Amara shook her head, "No, I'm good." She sent Cheen a smile as Martha took one, "Thanks anyway."

"Thanks," Martha started munching on the wafer, "About how far down is it to this fast lane?"

"Oh, it's right at the bottom, underneath the traffic jam." Milo explained from the driver's seat, "But not many people can afford three passengers, so it's empty down there. Rumour has it you can reach up to _thirty_ miles per hour."

"Great Scott!" Amara breathed, holding her head in her hands as she felt her patience beginning to dwindle at how ridiculous this _actually_ was. "This just gets better and _better_ , doesn't it?"

"Wow," Martha's voice oozed with sarcasm as she looked at Amara who seemed to be losing the will to live, "That's, like... _crazy_." The couple laughed as Martha glanced around, "But how are you supposed to live inside this thing? _It's tiny_."

"Oh, we stocked up." Cheen replied, "Got self-replicating fuel, muscle stimulants for exercise, and there's a chemical toilet at the back, and all waste products are recycled as food."

As soon as she finished, Martha stopped eating the wafer, eyeing it in complete and utter disgust, "Oh... kay..." The wafer fell from her hand as Amara snorted, apparently amused.

"Oh, another gap, this is brilliant!" Milo buzzed with excitement, grinning madly.

" _Car sign in_." An electronic, automated voice requested.

Reaching for the vocal transmitter, Milo cleared his throat, "Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six, on descent to fast lane, thank you very much." He sung brightly into it.

" _Please drive safely_."

"Never like automated voices," Amara commented distastefully, crossing her arms, "Reminds you that no one's actually on the end..."

Martha's eyes widened as she turned to stare at her... why did she have to go and say that? Her brain started to scream and despair all over again. No one was out there which meant _no one_ was listening.

* * *

Buzzing, the sonic shined as it hovered in front of a screen with the shining insignia of the New New York Polic Department twirling softly. "I need to talk to the police," The Doctor spoke into a vocal transmitter, his eyes and voice equally desperate.

" _Thank you for your call_." An automated voice answer, " _You have been placed on hold_."

"But you're the police!" He challenged, his mouth falling agape in disbelief.

" _Thank you for your call. You have been placed on hold._ "

Clenching his jaw, he banged the top of the monitor before sighing deeply, turning back to move up to the front of the car. "Is there anyone else? I once met the Duke of Manhattan; is there any way of getting through to him?"

Brannigan rolled his eyes at the Doctor, "Oh, now, ain't you lordly?"

"I've _got_ to find my friends."

"You _can't_ make outside calls." Valerie told him firmly, knowing that his anxiousness was purely for the worry he held for his friends. "The motorway's completely enclosed."

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he seethed, his eyes frantic once more. "What about the other cars?" He breathed, his voice quiet and calm.

"Oh, we've got contact with them, yeah." Brannigan nodded, reaching for the vocal transmitter. "Well, _some_ of them, anyway. They've got to be on your friends list. Now, let's see, who's nearby? _Ahh!_ The Cassini sisters!" He held up the transmitter. "Still your hearts, my handsome girls. It's Brannigan here."

"Get off the line, Brannigan." A voice answered, thought it sounded as though she was smiling, "You're a pest and a menace."

"Oh, come on, now, sisters." Brannigan chuckled softly, "Is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"You know full well we're not _sisters_. We're _married_."

" _Oooh_ , stop that modern talk! I'm an old-fashioned cat." He cleared his throat, glancing up at the Doctor, who was waiting patiently. "Now, I've got a hitchhiker here, calls himself the Doctor."

As soon as he moved to hand over the transmitter, the Doctor grabbed it. "Hello, sorry." He sent Brannigan a small smile for having cut him off, "I'm looking for my friends Martha Jones and Amara Lambert. They've been carjacked – they're inside one of these vehicles, but I don't know which one."

"Wait a minute." Another voice sounded, followed by a moment of silence, "Could I ask, what entrance did they use?"

The Doctor frowned, looking down at Brannigan, "Where were we?"

"Pharmacy Town." He told him as the Doctor nodded.

"Pharmacy Town, about twenty minutes ago."

"Let's have a look..." She hummed, the line going quiet again.

"Just my luck, to marry a car-spotter." The first voice commented in amusement, the tone fond and light that it made Valerie smile.

"In the last half hour, fifty-three new cars joined from the Pharmacy Town junction."

"Anything more specific?" The Doctor bit out, hoping beyond hope.

"All in good time," The second voice told him patiently, "Were they car-jacked by two people?"

"Yes, they were, yeah."

"There we are. Just _one_ of those cars was destined for the fast lane. That means they had three on board..." The voice disappeared for a short moment, "And car number is Four-Six-Five diamond six."

"That's it!" He grinned, feeling optimistic. "So how do we find them?"

" _Ah._ Now, there I'm afraid I can't help."

The Doctor turned to Brannigan, "Call them on this thing. We've got their number – Diamond six." He needed to find them, and quickly, he _NEEDED_ to know they were all right, that they were safe...

"Not if they're designated fast lane." Brannigan sighed to the Doctor's dismay, "It's a different class."

"You could try the police." The second voice, May, offered.

"They put me on hold."

The first woman, Alice, sighed. "You'll have to keep trying... there's no one else."

"Thank you." He muttered as the line fell dead as did his hopes of finding Martha and Amara.

* * *

Martha and Amara both leaned over the centre of the car between Milo and Cheen as their descended further into the depths of the motorway, nearing the fast lane, "See," Milo pointed to the blue screen, still grinning, "Another ten layers to go. We're scorching."

Martha started to smile as a low noise rippled through the car, causing the smile to fall. "What's that?" She breathed out as the noise sounded again, her eyes widening when Amara pressed herself against the floor of the car, listening.

"It's coming from underneath," She asserted, frowning as she felt another low growl.

"It does have noise, doesn't it?" Cheen contemplating with a frown, "It's like Kate said. The stories are true."

"What stories?" Martha's heart was in her throat.

"It's the sound of the air vents." Milo rolled his eyes in exasperation, " _That's all_. The exhaust fumes travel down, so at the base of the tunnel they've got air vents."

"Then why is there _so_ much smog?" Amara countered, knowing that something was definitely wrong.

"No, the stories are _much_ better." Cheen said as Milo chuckled derisively, rolling his eyes again. "They say people go missing on the motorway. Some cars just vanish, never to be seen again. 'Cause there's something living down there, in the smoke. Something huge. And _hungry_. And if you get lost on the road... it's waiting for you."

Milo shifted in his seat as the rumbling grew in volume, "But like I said, air vents." He pressed a few buttons on the console, "Going down to the next layer."

"Except look out there." Martha pointed, realising that Amara was right. The smog was thick like a brick wall. "Does it _look_ like the air vents are working?"

"No." Cheen agreed with a grimace, eyeing the grey haze of smog.

Amara sighed, beginning to root around through a nearby tool box, "It's nothing to do with the airs vents." She told them forcefully, shaking her head profusely as the sounds grew, causing the car to vibrate, jolting.

"So what's that, then?" Martha questioned over the noise.

Amara bit her lip, "I don't know." She admitted, hating feeling hopeless. "I need to see."

Milo shook his head, "Nah, kid stuff." He held up the transmitter, trying to ignore their comments, "Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six, on descent."

* * *

His patience was wearing thin, he couldn't just stand meekly aside as Amara and Martha travelled lower and lower in the unknown depths of the motorway. "We've got to go to the fast lane. Take me down." He demanded, pleading with Brannigan.

"Not a million years." Brannigan scoffed.

"You've got _three_ passengers!"

Brannigan shrugged, "I'm still not going."

"They're alone, and lost..." He sighed in defeat, swallowing thickly, "They don't belong on this planet, and it's all my fault. I'm asking you, Brannigan, take me down. _Please_."

"That's a _no_." Valerie affirmed, crossing her arms, not to be moved. "And that's _final_. I'm _not_ risking the children down there."

"Why not?" The Doctor eyed the both of them suspiciously, feeling his anxiety rising within his chest again as he glanced between them. "What's the risk? What _happens_ down there?" He prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"We're not discussing it!" Valerie remarked sharply, looking away from the Doctor, "The conversation is closed!"

He rolled his eyes, bracing himself against the back of he chair in disbelief, "So we keep on driving..."

"Yes, we do." Brannigan gave a bob of his head, unmoved.

"For how _long_?"

"'Till the journey's end."

Glowering at the pair of them, the Doctor reached to snatch the vocal transmitter, "Mrs. Cassini, this is the Doctor. Tell me, how long have you been driving on the motorway?" He questioned, awaiting a reply that he _hoped_ would change their mind.

"Oh, we were amongst the first." Alice answered almost immediately, "It's been twenty-three years now."

"And in _all_ that time, have you _ever_ seen a police car?" He pressed, ignoring the look he received from both Brannigan and Valerie, obviously not pleased by him mentioning more situations to create hassle.

The other line was silent for a while before either women spoke, "I'm not sure..." May admitted quietly.

"Look at your notes." The Doctor encouraged, endeavouring to prove a point. " _Any_ police?"

"Not as such."

"Or an ambulance? Rescue service? Anything official? _Ever?_ "

"I can't keep a note of _everything_." May let out, distressed.

"What if there's _no one_ out there?"

Vexed, Brannigan suddenly snatched the transmitter out of the Doctor's hand, glowering up at him. " _Stop it_ ," He reprimanded with a growl, "The Cassinis were doing you a _favour_."

"Someone's got to ask." The Doctor sighed, holding Brannigan's gaze carefully. "'Cause you might not talk about it, but it's there. In _your_ eyes." He paused, marvelling over the man before him, bending slightly. "What if the traffic jam _never_ stops?"

"There's a whole city above us. The mighty city-state of New New York." Brannigan scoffed, waving the Doctor off absently. "They wouldn't just _leave_ us."

"In that case, where are they? Hmm? What if there's no help coming, not ever? What if there's _nothing_?" He paused, allowing Brannigan to contemplate his words before he carried on – he would make them both understand, make them both see. "Just the motorway, with the cars going round and round and _round_ , never stopping? _Forever?_ " The Doctor questioned as he saw the hysteria rise within Brannigan's eyes, the realisation...

"Shut up!" Valerie snapped, glowering up at him, "Just shut up!"

At the front of the car, the screen jolt to life as the news started up, revealing the blonde woman from earlier. " _This is Sally Calypso, and it's that time again. The sun is blazing high in the sky over the New Atlantic, the perfect setting for the daily contemplation..."_

"You think you know us so well, Doctor." Brannigan told him firmly, holding his head high as Valerie started to smile. "But we're not abandoned. Not while we have each other."

" _... This is for all of you out there on the roads. We're so sorry. Drive safe..."_

Suddenly as song began to play through the screen, Brannigan and Valerie also begun to sing it as the Doctor watched them with a deep frown.

" _On a hill, far away, stood an old, rugged cross... The emblem of suffering and shame... And I love that old cross, where the dearest and best, for a world of lost sinners was slain... So I'll cherish the old, rugged cross, rugged cross..."_

The song continued, reverberating through all the cars on the motorway as their occupants sung, embracing the single moments as they sung in unison.

* * *

Wiping the fallen tears from her eyes, Martha sniffed once the song had ended, finding herself overcome with a sudden emotion. She had been worrying about herself and Amara without giving any concern to all the people on the motorway, helpless.

Feeling an arm wrap around her shoulders, she looked to see Amara smiling at her sadly, "It's all right," She squeezed her shoulder softly, "They've got to believe.. hope is stronger than fear."

"But it's awful," Martha murmured low enough for only her to hear.

"There can't be good without bad."

" _Fast lane access, please drive safely_." The automated voice announced, breaking the comfortable silence to allow Martha to sober up.

"We made it," Milo and Cheen shared a grin, "The fast lane."

Amara's brow furrowed as the car descended through the long lines of traffic, down into the depths of the unknown smog below.

* * *

Time was running out, he knew they'd been taken from him forever if he didn't hurry up and do something... "If you won't take me, I'll go down on my own." The Doctor announced, whipping out his sonic to crouch on the floor as Brannigan and Valerie watched.

Brannigan gaped at him, "What do you _think_ you're _doing_?" He demanded incredulously, outraged.

"Finding my own way." The Doctor remarked, "I usually do."

" _Capsule open_." Another automated voice announced as the door slid open, revealing hundreds of cars lurking below.

The Doctor sighed when a car pulled up right underneath the opening, knowing he didn't have much of a choice, he prepared to descend. "Here we go." Pulling off his overcoat, he threw it to Brannigan, pained at the separation. "Look after this... I _love_ that coat. Janis Joplin gave me that coat."

"But you can't _jump_!" Valerie argued, knowing that the man was truly mad.

"If it's any consolation, Valerie, right now, _I'm_ having kittens."

"This Martha, she must mean an awful lot to you." Brannigan eyed him for a moment, hoping to stall him from making any rational decisions.

"Hardly know her. I was too busy showing off... and I lied to her." He sighed, sitting on his knees for a moment as he contemplated it. Since he had met her, all he'd done was lie. And shed follow him. "Couldn't help it, just lied."

Brannigan nodded thoughtfully, "And this Amara?"

"'Mara, she..." The Doctor paused for a moment, thinking. He'd been showing off to her too, trying more like, and she wasn't so easily impressed. "She's _brilliant_. And I get along with her, like really well, and it's great having her around..." He smiled, scratching behind his ear as he looked up at them. "She's going to be my companion for a while, y'know, once I take Martha home."

"Lied to her as well have you?" Valerie inquired.

"No." The Doctor shook his head, "She's too smart to lie to. She understands... She's _nice_. Hopefully she'll stick around for a while." He sighed again, flashing them both a smile, "Bye then!" He slipped through the hatch and landed on to of the next car, almost choking on the exhaust fumes.

"He's completely insane!" He heard Valerie's shrill tones from above as he coughed again, puling out his sonic and hovering it across the top of the car as the hatch slid open, allowing him entry.


	6. V

" _Capsule open_." An automated voice called as the Doctor dropped through hatch and into a pristine, clinical looking car with its stunned driver, a pale man adorned all in white, gaping at him.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, outraged by the Doctor's sudden appearance.

"Sorry, Motorway Foot Patrol." The Doctor replied as he knelt on the floor, "I'm doing a survey. How are you enjoying your motorway?" He questioned, using his sonic to scan the door on the floor.

"Well, not very much. Junction Five's been closed for three years!"

"Thank you." The Doctor looked up at him with a smile, nodding though not really listening, "Your comments have been noted. Have a nice day!" He slid through the hatch, clinging to the bottom of the car, swinging ashe waited for a car to pull up beneath.

Seizing his chance, he dropped down onto the next car, choking on the fumes as he started to scan the new hatch as quickly as he could.

" _Capsule open_." The same automated voice informed him as he clambered through the hatch to fall on the floor, scanning the bottom hatch immediately.

Chancing a glance upwards, he smiled when he found two startled Asian girls gawking at him from the very front of the car. "Thank you for your cooperation. Your comments have been noted," Looking to the side, he smiled as he picked up a blue bandanna, tying it around his mouth to stop him choking. _Why hadn't I..._ He stopped himself, rolling his eyes. "Do you mind if I borrow this? Not my colour, but thank you very much." His muffled voice managed through the fabric as he fell through the hatch, down onto the car below.

" _Capsule open_."

Finally getting the hang of opening the hatches, he slithered through next one easily but was startled when he was greeted with two _very_ naked occupants, who appeared to share his shock.

And he had to go and call Amara a naturist, didn't he... He sighed at the thought, spinning around. "Don't mind me!" The Doctor called over his shoulder as he jumped down onto the car below.

Scanning the hatch again, he clambered through, leaving the voice behind as it spoke: " _Capsule open_."

Entering the car which was glittering in all shades of crimson, scarlet and claret , the driver turned to look at him, large and red and hairy, his brow furrowed.

Saluting him, the Doctor turned and worked away at the hatch before jumping through it as well.

* * *

Staring with a perplexed gaze, Amara watched as exit alter exit after exit, they were all told the exits were closed. "Try again," Cheen urged Milo as the screen reloaded, presenting the junction with three exit options.

Milo pressed the first exit on the screen, but it flashed to alert that it was closed. " _Brooklyn Turnoff One closed_."

Cheen frowned, not deterred, "Try the next one."

" _Brooklyn Turnoff Two closed_." The same automated voice informed them which was really starting to get on Amara's nerves; they were no closing to leaving and the Doctor was no closer to finding them and instead, they were stuck in a minuscule car with two idiotic people who refused to listen to her while Martha was losing her cool.

"What do we do?" Cheen demanded, panic rising into her voice.

Amara sighed, "Best to not panic..." She told the woman, her eyes scanning around the small car.

"We'll keep going round," Milo squeezed her hand in assurance, "We'll do the whole loop, so by the time we come back round, they'll be open."

"Nothing's going to open because _nothing's_ there." Amara breathed, her frustration growing as the same low growl rumbled from underneath the car, causing it vibrate.

"You're still calling that air vents?" Martha pressed, reaching for Amara as the woman seemed to be the only calm and sane one left, grabbing her arm to soothe her own panic. She was glad she wasn't alone...

"There are _no_ air vents!" Amara breathed, squeezing Martha's hand back, "If there were, we'd all be able to see which, unfortunately, we _can't_. It's _not_ the air vents." She repeated forcefully, wondering how long it would take for them to get it into their heads that they were stuck down there. "You can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, but it's _not_."

"What else could it be?" Milo argued, scoffing, though he really didn't want to know the answer. From the looks on their faces, it's clear that none of them really want to know. Again, the noise.

"What the hell is that?" Cheen whimpered when the sound emerged again.

Milo frowned, "It's just... the hydraulics."

"Really? _Hydraulics?_ That's what you're sticking with a viable reason?" Amara arched a brow at him in disbelief, unable to believe that he was still refusing to see the bigger picture, the _real_ picture for that matter.

"Sounds like it's..." Martha frowned as she listened, "Alive."

Amara's eyes widened as she groaned in frustration, throwing her hands into the air, "That's because it is." She turned to Martha and grinned, gripping her arm. "Martha Jones, you're brilliant!"

Martha smiled in her confusion, "Am I?"

"More than _you_ know." Amara remarked, beginning to pace in the back of the car, tapping her head. "Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid, _stupid!_ Of course, why didn't _I_ see it?" She demanded in outrage as Cheen eyed her, curious and terrified.

Milo shook his head profusely, "Don't be daft, it's _all_ exhaust fumes out there." He argued, waving both women off simply. He was the driver, he _knew_ the answers. " _Nothing_ could breathe in that."

"Then why do you look scared if it's as you say, if it's _"nothing_ "?" Amara countered, causing an uneasy silence to fall between the four of them. "What you both _need_ to understand is that something beneath us is _alive._ "

Milo turned in his chair, watching as Amara began rooting through a tool box, "What'd you want us to do? Look at it?"

"Good idea, Milo." She grabbed a screwdriver, smiling, walking to the front of the car, "You beat me to the punchline."

"You're _joking_?" He looked to Martha for help but she shrugged, "She's joking, right?"

"Come on, no time for idle chit-chat." Amara gestured to the front of the car with the screwdriver, "We need to trip the system to clear the smog, then we can look at these beasties." She got Cheen to move so she could access some panels above the monitor screen, "Milo, I need you to open the hatch."

"No, you're crazy," Milo shook his head, folding his arms as she ripped into a panel, drawing out wires. "What do you _think_ you're doing?" He demanded, bug-eyed as she fiddled away.

"If you're not going to help, I can do it by myself."

"His eyes flickered over to Cheen, he couldn't do it. He wasn't going to risk it, he didn't want to risk hurting her or the baby. "I can't."

"If I can get the ventilation going, we'll be fine." Amara assured just as the vocal transmitter began to buzz in its holder.

" _Calling Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six_." An electronic voice called out, " _Repeat, calling Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six._ "

"This is Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six." Milo seized the transmitter with a frown, "Who's that? Where are you?"

" _I'm in the fast lane, about fifty years behind you._ " A woman called from the other end, frightened cries echoing in the back as Amara paused in her tinkering. " _Can you get back up? Can you get_ off _the fast lane?_ "

"We only have permission to go _down_ ," Milo told the woman, looking at Amara whose expression was dark, "We... we need the Brooklyn Flyover."

" _It's closed... go back_ up."

"We can't. We'll just go round."

" _Don't you understand? They're_ closed _, they're_ always _closed_." At the woman's cries, Cheen's hand flew to her mouth as Martha's eyes widened when she looked at Amara, the woman have said similar things to them beforehand. " _We're_ stuck _down here, and there's something else. Out there, in the fog. Can't you hear it?_ "

Once the words had left her mouth, another defiant roar erupted through the fumes outside, jolting the cars in the fast lane, but Milo still shook his head, refusing to believe. "That's the air vents."

"Come on, Milo! Stop with the bloody air vents." Amara implored, her brow furrowing at him as she was losing grip on her patience; if he didn't listen, he was going to get everyone in this car killed. "Listen to what she's telling you in her last moments."

" _Jehovah!_ " the woman exclaimed, " _What are you, some stupid kid? Get out of here!_ "

Smashing and the hissing of sparks could be heard from the transmitter as the roar erupted once again, "What was that?" Milo asked urgently through the screams.

Grabbing the transmitter from Milo, Amara held it to her mouth, "What's your name?"

" _Javit..._ " The woman replied as Amara clenched her jaw, " _I can't move. They've got us! I can't... you have to try to go_ up _!_ " She explained through a shrill voice.

"Javit, I'm sorry."

" _Yeah, me too..._ " Javit managed through the sparks and screams on the other end.

Amara winced, knowing she couldn't help her... but if she got her to turn of the engine, their deaths would be less painful... air deprivation was better than being ripped apart. "They've got you, so what you're going to need to do is- "

Milo snatched the transmitter back from her with a glower, "But what's happening?"

"What got you?" Martha grabbed the transmitter from Milo, "What is it?"

The woman continued to yell something on the other end, but it was too unintelligible for them to make out. Milo grabbed the transmitter again, "Hello?"

" _Just drive, you idiots!_ " Javit exclaimed, her voice breaking, " _Get out of here! Get out!_ "

"Can you _hear_ me?! Hello?!"

"Just drive!" Martha exclaimed, watching as Amara went back to pulling at the wires, more hastily this time as those her mind was doing circuits, and as though she was internally panicking. "Do what she said, get us out of here!"

"But where?" Milo looked at Martha, lost.

Martha was panicking, she didn't know what to do or how to make things better, that was usually the Doctor's job, he was just good at it. "Just straight ahead! And fast!" Amara shouted from the front, hooking wires and yanking them, "Pronto!"

"What is it?" Cheen cried out, almost sobbing, "What's out there? What is _it_?"

" _Yo-moyo!_ It worked!" Amara announced as she felt a sudden, harsh breeze hit her face, a welcoming gesture as she hopped down from the front of the car and dropped to the hatch, "Now, Milo..." She looked up at the shaken man, "Would you please open the hatch now that' the system's been tripped?"

Swallowing thickly, Milo turned in his seat and pressed a few controls and the hatch slid open, " _Capsule open_." The smog lingered for a few moments before gradually clearing as Amara leaned over, Martha and Cheen doing the same out of interest and concern.

Out of nowhere, several colossal claws materialised through the clearing smog, snapping up at them as Martha gasped, "They look like giant crab." She told Amara as the woman sat back on her knees, thinking.

Amara sighed, "I don't think you'd want to eat Macra."

"What the hell is Macra?" The other three demanded in unison.

Looking at their panicked expression, seeing tears in Cheen's eyes and the belief in Martha's, Amara cleared her throat. "A species that feeds off of poisonous fumes, toxins and gases that humans can't withstand. It's how they _feed_ , they're thriving off the exhaust fumes." Amara sprung to her feet to reach the front of the car, pressing some controls to close the hatch. Turning to face the three of them, she sighed in dread, "We _need_ to get out of here. Right _now_."

* * *

The Doctor was thrown forward as he landed on the next car, composing himself before he pulled out his sonic to force the top hatch open, " _Capsule open_." The automated voice greeted him as he jumped through it, causing a businessman to whirl and face him.

"There we go," He breathed, wheezing.

"Excuse me, is that legal?"

"Sorry, Motorway Foot Patrol..." He never finished, coughing too hard from choking on the toxic fumes despite his mouth being covered, "Whatever... have you got any water?"

"Certainly," He reached forward towards a water cooler, filling a cone-shape plastic cup before handing it to the Doctor, "Never let it be said I've lost my manners."

As soon as it was handed to him, the Doctor drained its contents immediately. "Is this the last layer?"

"Ah, we're right at the bottom." The businessman told him in affirmation, "Nothing below us but the fast lane."

The Doctor's brows perked at the mention of the fast lane, "Can we drive down?" He wondered, eyeing the man in the driver's chair.

"There's only two of us. You need three to go down."

The Doctor frowned, "Couldn't we just _cheat_?" He implored, his desperation finally starting to get the better of him.

"Well, I'd _love_ to, but it's an automated system." The businessman turned to the wheel, gesturing, "The wheel would lock."

Pausing in thought for a moment, the Doctor gritted his teeth before an idea sprung into mind, "If you'll excuse me." He turned and moved towards the hatch in the bottom the car, whipping out his sonic screwdriver to flip it open.

"You can't _jump_ , It's a _thousand_ feet down!"

"No, I just want to look." Kneeling beside the hatch, he stared out into the hanging smog squinting at the faintly dotted lights. He stares out into a thick, murky fog, dotted with tiny lights. The Doctor's eyes narrowed when a screeching roar met his ears, looking up at the driver, he frown, "What's that noise?"

The businessman shuddered, "I _try_ not to think about it."

"What are those lights?" He squinted, leaning forwards slightly, "What's down there?" He wheezed again, bringing up at hand to sweep the smog away. "I just need to _see_."

Frowning, the Doctor ran to the front of the car and held his sonic to the monitor there and began to try and trip the system in a hope of exposing whatever lurked in the depths of the motorway. "There _must_ be some sort of ventilation..." He was getting more and more manic with each passing second, his worry for Martha and Amara taking hold over him, "If I could _just_ transmit a pulse through this thing, maybe I could trip the system, give us a bit of a breeze."

Not long after, he found himself fiddling with the wiring of the front console, tweaking the wires with his sonic until one snapped in his fingers, "That's it!" He exclaimed, rushing back over to the hatch eagerly, "Might shift the fumes a bit, give us a good look."

Leaning over as well, the businessman's brow furrowed, "What are those shapes?"

Gigantic claws materialised through the fading smog, snapping up at them. "They're alive."

"What the hell are they?"

Seeing their full bodies, all the colour drained from his face, "Macra." The Doctor breathed disdainfully as his concern grew more anxious, knowing that his companions were down there, in grave danger and he was utterly futile.

* * *

Jolting and vibrating, Amara barely managed to hold on as they tackled their way through the field of Macra. Maybe rigging the ventilation wasn't such a good idea... they could see the Macra, which undoubtedly meant the Macra could see them as well.

"Go faster!" Cheen exclaimed as Milo tried to drive through, the car jerking violently.

"I'm at top speed!"

" _No access above_." The automated voice reminded as the screen beeped at them, reading: "PROXIMITY WARNING."

Grabbing the transmitter, Milo was almost hysterical, "But this is an emergency!" He begged as the car plummeted through the sea of Macra, only just dodging the claws as they snapped.

"No one's there!" Amara breathed, banging her head against the table in annoyance, "That's what automated voices are for; to make you think someone's there, when actually, no one _ever_ was."

" _Thank you for your call. You have been placed on hold_."

"Turn everything off!" Martha suddenly shouted over the commotion, causing Amara's head to snap around to look at her, impressed.

Mil scoffed, shaking his head, "You've _got_ to be joking."

"No, listen, it's all fog out there, so how can they see us?" Martha considered, causing Milo to pause in his frantic movement, "Maybe it's the engines, the sound, or the heat, or the light, I don't know!"

"Martha's right." Amara agreed immediately, smiling at the other woman. The Doctor wouldn't be taking her home for quite some time yet... "Milo, turn everything off. Without sound, they'll be blind. Just _do_ it."

"Turn everything off. They might not be able to find us." Martha added.

Milo, however, was still hesitant. "What if you're wrong?"

Leaning against Cheen's chair to steady herself, Amara sighed, "It's a chance you're going to have to take."

"It can't be worse than this!" Martha gritted her teeth, "Just _do_ it!"

Sucking in a sharp breath, Milo started flicking switches at the top of the car and a few on the console before the car powered down, unmoving as the jolting ceased around them as did Cheen's screaming.

"They've stopped." Cheen said in utter marvel, sinking into her in relief.

"Yeah," Milo let out the breath he'd been holding, "But they're still out there."

Ignoring him, Cheen turned to Martha, "How did you think of that?"

Martha smiled nervously, "I, uh... saw it on a film." She explained with a shrug of her shoulders, "They used to do it in submarines. Trouble is, I can't remember what they did next..."

"He needs to let you stay because you are brilliant." Amara exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, grinning widely. "To the adventures to come, I say."

Martha smiled more naturally at that, though she couldn't help but wonder about that. The Doctor had always said _one_ trip, and one trip _only_. That one had turned into two... she always felt so uneasy, she couldn't anticipate whether she would go somewhere else with him or whether he would actually drop her off at home. He could easily replace her anyway; he had Amara on standby, though she seemed adamant to have her stay longer.

Anyway this trip didn't really count, she'd been kidnapped, after all... could she try and squeeze another out of him? Martha smiled at Amara, and wondered whether Amara could try and persuade him.

"What now?" Cheen asked.

Milo sighed, "We've lost the aircon..." He trailed off, looking between them all with a conflicted expression, "If we don't switch the engines back on, we won't be able to breathe."

Martha looked over at him, "How long have we got?"

"Eight minutes, maximum." Milo replied as Cheen began to cry, Amara setting a firm hand on her shoulder as she tried to rack her brain for something.

"Sometimes you need to fall before you can fly." Amara broke the silence, a determined look crossing her face and they awaited their fates, "And if you can fly, you can soar."

* * *

"The Macra used to be the scourge of this galaxy." The Doctor explained briefly to the businessman as they both continued to look down through the hatch, needing to take his mind off of the fact that Martha and Amara were down there. "Gas. They fed off gas, the filthier the better. They built up a small empire using humans as slaves and mining gas for food."

"They don't exactly look like empire-builders to me." The businessman told him with a frown.

"Well, that was billions of years ago. _Billions_. They must've devolved down the years and now they're just beasts." Swallowing hard, his hearts crept into his throat again, "But they're still hungry and my friends are down there."

A loud thump echoed on the outer-shell of the car, and both men looked up with a frown. "Oh, it's like New Times Square in here, for goodness's sake!" The businessman cried, jumping to his feet as the hatch opened again.

For a few seconds a pair of feet dangled down until another figure, resembling the Catkind dropped into the car with them, causing the Doctor to roll his eyes. "I've invented a sport..." He muttered in annoyance, straightening himself.

"Doctor, you're a hard man to find," She smiled softly at him, though he looked at her in puzzlement.

"No guns!" The businessman cried in outrage, pointing accusingly, "I'm _not_ having guns!"

"I only brought this in case of pirates." She told the businessman firmly, to assure him that she wouldn't use it on random civilians. "Doctor, you've got to come with me." She said earnestly, needing to take him back to Boe, for he was needed. She couldn't fail.

"Do I know you?" The Doctor stared at her, not recalling who she was or recognising her as she did him. His mind was far too frantic to sort through things reasonably.

"You haven't aged at all," She smiled sheepishly, "Time has been less kind to me."

"Novice Hame!" Grinning, he embraced her momentarily before recoiling in recollection, "No, hold on, get off." He stepped away from, eyeing her critically, "Last time we met, you were _breeding_ humans for experimentation."

"I've sought forgiveness," She bowed her head for a moment, refusing to meet his eyes, "Doctor, for _so_ many years, under his guidance." Tears gathered in her eyes as she finally looked to him again to find him frowning deeply, looking less convinced. "And if you come with me, I might finally be able to redeem myself."

"I'm not going anywhere." The Doctor resisted, defiant in his resolution. "You've got Macra living underneath this city. _Macra!_ And if my friends are still alive, they're stuck down there!"

"You've _got_ to come with me right _now_!"

"No, no, no, _you're_ coming with me." The Doctor shook his head, "We've got _three_ passengers now."

"I'm sorry, Doctor. But the situation is even worse than you can imagine." Her hand seized his wrist, pressing a button on a metal wristband she was wearing, she gulped. "Transport."

His face contorted at the realisation, "Don't you dare!" He tried to pull away, utterly livid that she would obstruct his rescue – he needed to find them! He couldn't... " _Don't_ you dare!" He exclaimed, but it was too late as the both of them vanished through a haze of white light as the businessman stared after them in bewilderment.

* * *

Landing in a heap on the floor, the Doctor groaned, "Rough teleport... ow," He lifted himself off of the floor of a large, unkempt room before glowering down at Novice Hame, "But you can go straight back down and teleport people out, starting with Martha and Amara."

She shook her head, "I only had the power for one trip."

"Then get some _more!_ " He hissed, absolutely fuming that she had ruined all his determination to get to them, and to have been so, _so_ close and for her to come and take him away... he'd failed them. "Where are we?"

"High above, in the over-city."

"Good!" He seethed, ready and raring to tell them about the motorway malarkey. "'Cause you can tell the Senate of New New York I'd like a word. They've got thousands of people _trapped_ on the motorway! _Millions!_ "

"But you're inside the Senate, right now. May the goddess Santori bless them." She fiddled with a button on her wristband, tripping the lights as long rows of seats in a vast chamber were illuminated around them, containing withered skeletons. "They _died,_ Doctor. The city _died_."

Growing rigid, the Doctor's mouth fell ajar at the sight. "How long's it been like this?"

"Twenty-four years." Novice Hame replied solemnly as they walked towards the skeleton lying nearest to them.

Crouching beside a skeleton, the Doctor sighed and allowed all his anger to dissipate, and instead found himself overcome with a profound unease. "All of them? _Everyone?_ What happened?"

"A new chemical. A new mood. They called it Bliss," Novice Hame knelt beside him, reaching to pick up a small circular patch that reminded him of the ones the vendors were selling from when they'd first arrived. "Everyone tried it... they couldn't stop. A virus mutated inside the compound and became airborne. Everything perished, even the virus, in the end." Her voice was grave as the Doctor watched her, his gaze intent as it realised that Martha and Amara were safe from that at least. "It killed the world in seven minutes flat. There was just enough time to close down the walkways and the flyovers, sealing off the under-city... those people on the motorway aren't lost, Doctor. They were _saved_."

The Doctor stood, brow furrowed in thought as he glanced around them, "So the whole thing down there is running on automatic?" If he could override the controls, he could open the under-city again...

"There's not enough power to get them out." Novice Hame told him, knowing exactly what he was considering, "We did all we could to stop the system from choking."

"Who's " _we_ "?" He looked at her sharply with the inclusion of the pronoun, realising that she it wasn't just her, meaning she wasn't alone. "How did you survive?"

"He protected me," Novice Hame smiled softly, "And he has waited for you, these long years."

"... Doctor..." A low voice called out from behind them.

Immediately, the Doctor spun around and rushed over in the direction it had come from, bolting around a corner and pausing, stunned, before kneeling. "The face of Boe!" He placed his hands upon the glasses, watching silently.

"I knew you would come." Boe breathed, pleased to see the Doctor again.

Novice Hame wandered over slowly, "Back in the old days, I was made his nurse, as penance for my sins." She told the Doctor, bowing her head.

Seeing Boe struggling to breathe, the Doctor winced, "Old friend, what happened to you?"

"Failing." Boe managed through a wheeze.

"He protected me from the virus by shrouding me in his smoke," Novice Hame told the Doctor, "But with no one to maintain it, the City's power died. The under-city would have fallen into the sea."

"So, he saved them." The Doctor breathed softly, staring at Boe intently, his hearts constricting.

"The Face of Boe wired himself into the mainframe," She continued, her tone grave and solemn as the Doctor's hearts grew heavy, "He's giving his life force just to keep things running."

"But there are planets out there... you could have called for help."

Novice Hame bowed her head again when he looked at her, her hands clasped before her, "The last act of the Senate was to declare New Earth unsafe. The automatic quarantine lasts for one hundred years."

The Doctor frowned, looking back at the Face of Bow, "So the two of you stayed here, on your own, for all these years..." He slowly rose to his feet, an anxious concern flooding through him.

"We had no choice."

Walking over to her, he touched her shoulder softly, "Yes, you did."

"Save them, Doctor..." Boe wheezed, his breath escaping him, "Save _them_."

* * *

Sighing, Amara let her head fall against the wall of the car in dismay. She had been trying to think of a way to save them, and apparently failing... They should have driven up ages ago, but with Milo being so reluctant as the " _driver_ ", Amara had given up asking. Getting angry wasn't going to solve anything.

As soon as they ran out of air, they would die. As soon as the engines were back on, they would die. Either outcome wasn't reassuring.

"How much air's left?" Cheen asked, her voice breaking the silence that had fallen, sitting up in her chair as she looked over at Milo.

"Two minutes."

Two minutes, a hundred and twenty seconds... "There's always the Doctor," Martha's voice brought Amara out of her thoughts, "That friend of ours, he might think of something." She smiled slightly at Martha's belief in the Doctor.

"Martha, no one's coming." Milo told her plainly, looking over at her and she looked as though she was about to cry from despair. "What's he going to do? He's stuck like the rest of us."

Rolling her eyes, Amara sent Milo a pointed look, "Do a smart thing for once, Milo, and never give up on him. Trust in him. Trust in me. Trust in Martha. Because we believe in him." She smiled to herself, noticing how the three of them were looking at her. Amara shrugged. "Oh, hell... I'll trust anyone who can make a mean cup of tea."

Cheen managed a laugh as did Martha, "He looked kind of... nice."

"He's a bit more than that," Martha smiled again – he was quite possibly the best person she'd ever met, wanting to explore places and help people. He was just so nice, so nice that it hurt. But Amara, Amara was a wonder herself, the woman was probably in the same boat as her but she didn't make a inclination that she was.

"Are you and him..." Cheen looked up at Martha.

"No, definitely not. I'm just a friend." Martha shook her head, looking over Amara to see her smirking. Rolling her eyes, Martha sighed. "Fine... it's odd; sometimes I _think_ he likes me, but then other times, I think he _needs_ someone with him." She looked over at Amara properly, "Do you ever think that?"

"The Universe is a lonely place to travel on your own." Amara frowned, recalling how lonely travelling by oneself actual was. "I've done it, and it's more fun when you've got someone to share it with."

Cheen looked over at Amara, intrigued. "And you? Are you and him..." She thought at least one of them liked their Doctor, or least, that was the way it seemed...

"We're compadres." Amara spoke, smiling in amusement.

Martha scoffed at the reply, "They're in a continuous _flirtationship_."

Amara's gaze narrowed, "What the hell is that?" She frowned in thought, "I've _never_ even heard of that – you just made that up!"

Martha laughed, the first real laugh since being kidnapped, and she was glad it was because of Amara. "Y'know, more than a friendship, less than a relationship."

"You've got your wires crossed, Sunshine." Amara sighed, folding her arms over her chest, "Absolute nonsense."

Martha nudged Cheen, leaning towards her, "You should have seen _them_ on the way here. _FLIRTING_. They have this _thing_ , just between _them_ , where they call each other things to get a rise out of the other..."

"I can _still_ hear you." Amara sighed, smiling faintly.

"You were meant to," Martha commented as Cheen chuckled, "... and then there's the _fixing_! He gets _so_ flustered when she fixes _his_ spaceship!"

Amara stifled a laugh at Martha's words, wondering where the woman got her ideas from. " _Not_ a spaceship, Martha. _TARDIS_. There is difference, and don't let _her_ hear you call her that." Amara sighed, actually contemplating the topic of conversation. It wasn't like that; it would even be like that if she _ever_ told him the truth. "Anyway, it's not what you call a _flirtation_ , we click, that's all. A mutual understanding... Martha's the one who had the crush on him, anyway."

"How did you- did he tell you that?" Martha gaped at her, utterly shocked at what she heard. She'd made him sound like some sort of stalker... which she _wasn't_. "He told you about the hospital thing, didn't he?! That was all him! Kissing me like that- " She cut herself off when she saw the surprised look Cheen was giving, deciding that it was better to not finish that sentence.

Amara snorted, "Cat's out of the bag."

Cheen laughed at the pair of them, "I never _even_ asked... where's home?"

"Somewhere _very_ far away." Amara replied with a small frown, clenching her jaw at the thought of Gallifrey, a slight twinge in stomach as she recalled in complete destruction at the hands of the Child of Skaro.

Martha nodded, "It's a long way away," She admitted solemnly, "I didn't really think. I just followed the Doctor, and... they don't even know where I am. My mum and dad. If I died here, they'd never _know_."

"Enough of that." Amara squeezed her shoulder, "Faith and trust, that's all we need."

Martha smiled at the Peter Pan reference, finding that her fast friendship with Amara was something she would forever cherish. "Got any pixie dust?" She managed a smile which the other woman returned warmly.

"Unfortunately no." Amara told her, "But _you_ won't die here. None of _us_ will."

"So, um, who is he, then?" Milo inquired, "This Doctor?"

"I don't know..." Martha shrugged, "Well, not _really_."

Amara hummed in agreement, the Time Lord was a puzzle, and it made her head ache as she encountered all his thoughts and feelings as well as attempting to understand him _entirely_. It was exhausting. "One struggles to find an appropriate word... an enigma seems to fit the bill."

"There's so much he never says."

"Depends," Amara argued lightly, "You'd be surprised how much he gives away through body language," She paused when she saw Martha giving her a look, "Body language speaks volumes. It exposes the underlying truths of the mind, the ones we're too afraid to say... he says _a lot_."

Cheen's eyes widened, "But that means that... the only hope, right now is... a complete stranger." She breathed, horrified that a complete stranger was going to have to save them.

"Pretty much." Amara nodded slowly.

Cheen's panic began to rise again, "Well, that's no use!"

"It is, though, because you haven't seen the things he can do." Martha grinned at them, desperate for them to believe her and Amara, "Honestly, just trust us, _both_ of you. You've got your faith, you've got your songs and your hymns... and we've got the Doctor."

Amara smiled, "Our resident Spaceman." Resting an arm on Cheen's chair, she turned her attention to Milo, "As soon as you turn the engines back on, you _need_ to drive up. No matter what, just drive _up._ " She sucked in a sharp breath, clenching her jaw. They would get through it. They had to... "Don't give up, giving up is for rookies."

Milo gulped, "Right." With a deep breath, he flicked the switches he'd turned off earlier back on as the car powered up again.

" _Systems back on line_." The automated voice chirped.

"Good luck." Milo breathed as the lights came on again, gripping Cheen's hands briefly.

Martha smiled, "And you."

Amara clasped her hands together, grinning despite the situation. "Let's dance with these beastie boys." She sung as the car began to jolt again, dodging the Macra.

* * *

Staring intently at the screen before him, the Doctor scratched the back of his head as he stood, watched with his specs on, frowning until the car appears, beeping across the screen. "Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six, it still registers!" He exclaimed, relief flooding through him as the sight of it, grinning, "That's Martha. I knew they were good." He turned around suddenly, jumping back from the screen, "Novice Hame, hold that in place." He forced a piece of thick tubing into her hands, bounding away, jumping over a box of lights and buttons.

"Think, think, think..." He muttered, his mind growing frantic once again, "Take the residual energy, invert it, feed it through the electricity beds!" His eyes widened in mirth, pulling out his sonic eagerly.

"There isn't enough power." Novice Hame called out.

Jogging over to a far wall, he sighed. "Ah, you've got power! You've got me!" He exclaimed, staring at the screens, jumbled wiring and gallery of buttons. "I'm brilliant with computers, just you watch." Twirling around he pointed at Novice Hame, "Hame, every switch on that bank, up to maximum!"

Diving to the floor, he began fiddling once again, using his sonic screwdriver. "I can't power up the city, but all the city _needs_ is people." He slammed his fist down on the console and jumped up.

"So what are you going to do?" Novice Hame wondered, eyeing him curiously.

"This!" He flipped a switch erected from the floor, causing all the lights on the console to go out, flicker dead. "No, no, no, no, no, _no!_ " He exclaimed, falling to his knees, waving his sonic manically over more controls, maddened. "The transformers are blocked... the signal can't get through."

"Doctor..." The Face of Boe murmured, trying to get the Doctor's attention, possessing a viable suggestion to help his old friend.

"Yeah, hold on, not now." The Doctor waved him off dismissively, trying to concentrate as he attempted to fix his mistakes.

Wheezing, he began again: "I give you my last..." The Face of Boe let out a raspy breath as his hoarse voice trailed off, every switch flickering back to life.

As everything became illuminated, the Doctor sprung to his feet, eyes wide. "Hame, look after him!" He exclaimed, bounding back over to lever again, "Don't you go dying on me, you big old face. You've got to see this." He grinned, flicking the switch as Novice Hame busied herself with aiding Boe. "The open road, ha!"

* * *

Sparks splintered through the air as Martha was almost knocked off her feet, Cheen's screams erupted as Milo's grip tightened around the wheel, trying to dodge the claws as they stilled.

Another eruption of sparks greeted them as Amara gripped Martha, helping upright as Cheen continued to scream.

Managing to wedge the car free, Milo forced his foot down as the car jerked from side-to-side while the welcoming sight of the Doctor flashed across the screen, grinning.

"S _orry, no Sally Calypso, she was just a hologram._ " He announced as Amara smiled, mesmerised by his endless ways. " _My name's the Doctor..._ "

"It's your friend!" Cheen exclaimed, her eyes glued to the screen.

" _And this is an_ order." The Doctor continued, " _Everyone drive up. Right now... I've opened the roof of the motorway. Come on. Throttle those engines._ Drive up. _All of you, the whole under-city._ " He implored, still grinning, " _Drive up, drive up,_ drive up! Fast!"

"He's mad..." Milo breathed.

" _We've got to clear that fast lane. Drive up and get out of the way_." The Doctor bellowed as Martha clapped her hands in excitement, " _Oi! Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six! Greaser! Martha!_ Drive up!"

" _Grease_ r?" Amara scoffed, "I'll have him..."

Martha grinned, buzzing as she continued to vibrate with excitement, "That's the Doctor!"

"We can't go up!" Milo argued, "We'll hit the layer!"

"Just do as he says!" Martha implored, her anxiousness getting the better of her, drumming her hands on Milo's seat. "Go up!"

Amara sighed, rolling her eyes at Milo, "Come on, Sunshine, move over." She ordered firmly, watching as he looked over at Cheen, who shrugged. Once he was out of the chair, Amara pushed her foot down on the pedal, yanking the clutch as the car turned sharply, "Reach for the sky!"

" _You've got access above,_ " The Doctor spoke, "Now go!"

The car swerved as Amara pushed down on the throttle, the car whipping up a speed as they were met with a sudden sheen of daylight, blinding them momentarily.

"It's daylight!" Cheen exclaimed, beside her with excitement, struck with awe, "Oh my god!"

"That's the sky, the _real_ sky!" Milo added, wrapping his arms around Cheen's shoulders.

"He did it!" Martha cheered, squeezing Amara's shoulder as she moved to hug Milo and then Cheen, "I told you, he did it!"

"Ka chow!" Amara smirked as the daylight grew brighter the higher they climbed.

* * *

" _Did I tell you, Doctor? You're not bad, sir. You're not bad at all!_ " Brannigan exclaimed through the vocal transmitter, making the Doctor grin. " _Oh, yee-hah!_ "

Watching all the hard-work with pride, the Doctor smiled to himself, wandering around the room as Novice Hame continued to aid the Face of Boe. "You keep driving, Brannigan, all the way up! 'Cause it's here, just waiting for you." He spun around and made his way over to a window, peering out to look over at the over-city. "The city of New New York, and it's yours!" Soaking up the scenery, he sighed to himself before another thought rekindled in his mind, "And don't forget, I want that coat back."

" _I reckon that's a fair bargain, sir_." Brannigan replied over the transmitter.

"And Car Four-Six-Five Diamond Six, I've sent you a flight path." He informed curtly, smiling again. "Come to the Senate."

" _On our way!_ " Martha called back, still buzzing.

"It's been quite a while since I saw you, Martha Jones. Where's 'Mara? Is she- " He never finished as he was interrupted by Novice Hame's shrill cry of desperation.

"Doctor!"

The Doctor turned, his face falling when he saw the case that enclosed around the Face of Boe was beginning to crack, splitting the glass.

* * *

"Just so y'know, you'd never make it in the racing profession." Martha told Amara, an arm wrapped around her shoulder as they wandered through the deserted halls of the Senate, grinning at her.

"Why's that?" Amara made a face, knowing that Martha's comments was entirely reasonably seeing as she'd been so eager to take over from Milo. "I thought my driving was sufficient enough, thank you very much."

Martha laughed, "I'm _never_ getting in a car with you at the wheel again." Her smiled fell when she saw a skeleton lying on the floor in front of them upon entrance, "Doctor?"

"Over here." He voice drifted over to them as Amara pulled her along as Martha beamed again.

"Doctor!" She rushed around the corner, pausing when she saw the sight before her. "What happened out there?" She asked when she saw him kneeling in front of a giant alien face. Screwing her face up, she edged towards him, "What's that?"

"It's the Face of Boe." The Doctor told her softly as Amara moved past, her eyes slightly wide.

"So, the legend is true..." Amara breathed out, kneeling beside the face in awe, her eyes gliding over the face, tracing every detail. "Hello."

"It's all right, come and say hello," The Doctor waved Martha over, "And this is Hame, she's a cat... don't worry." Slowly, she wandered over, her eyes glued to the face. "He's the one that saved you, not me."

"My lord gave his life to save the city." Novice Hame breathed as Martha knelt beside her, solemn. "And now he's dying."

The Doctor shook his head, refusing to believe that after all this time, _so_ long, the Face of Boe was going to die. "No, don't say that... not old Boe, plenty of life left." He argued weakly.

Boe wheezed, sucking in a deep breath. "It's good to breathe the air once more."

Martha frowned, looking at the Doctor. "Who is he?" She asked quietly.

"I don't even know." The Doctor admitted weakly.

"Legend says the Face of Boe has lived for billions of years." Amara spoke, awestruck, as her eyes remained glued to Boe, tracing every feature as she silently watched the face before her. She had heard the legend before, many times, but never would have ever thought... "Isn't that right?"

"Blue eyes, brown eyes... green eyes." Boe rasped, his eyes trained on Amara as she held his gaze, her face composed, calm and collected. "Eyes forever closed. So many faces, young and old..." He wheezed again, blinking tiredly, exhausting of his energy. "Truth is the substance of morality."

Amara stared, internally screaming as she held Boe's gaze firmly... _he knew_. Clenching her jaw, she swallowed thickly as she knew, _she knew_ , that it would do her _no_ good hiding the truth from the Doctor. The Face of Boe knew who she was, and if the Doctor didn't press for answers about his comments... then the Time Lord had truly given up all hope...

"You're not about to give up _now_." The Doctor implored, tearing Boe's eyes away from Amara.

"Everything has its time," Boe reasoned softly, "You know that, old friend, better than most."

"I'm sorry..." Amara muttered, gritting her teeth as Boe looked over at her again, his gaze settling as a faint smile crossed his lips, barely existent.

"She who walks among shadows, the saviour of those who have lost all hope..." Boe breathed through a soft rasp, "Watchful guardian... and silent protector of those who have passed, those now, and those to come."

Amara was unhinged, tense, rigid and frozen, unmoving as she blinked, tears swimming in her eyes. _He walks among them, changing faces... at his hands you will come undone,_ Boe's voice rung through her head as she stared.

"The legend says more." Novice Hame's voice reached them softly.

"Don't." The Doctor shook his head warningly, reaching for Amara but pausing when he saw tears glistening within her eyes. He swallowed, pulling back, and looked over at Boe, "There's no need for that."

"It says that the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveller."

"Yeah, but not yet." The Doctor refused to believe that the Face of Boe was to die, not now... _not now!_ "Who needs secrets, eh?"

"I have seen so much," Boe acknowledged softly, sighing. "Perhaps too much... I am the last of my kind, as you are the last of yours, Doctor."

The Doctor blinked back the tears that had gathered in his eyes without permission, refusing to accept Boe's fate, ignoring Martha as she sent him a look of surprise, realising why he had refused to take her to his planet. He couldn't _just_ let him die, not after everything. "That's why _we_ have to survive. Both of us... _don't go_."

"I must." He told the Doctor solemnly, his voice firm but gentle as he continued to rasp. "But know this, Time Lord... _you are not alone_."

Amara stared... so, he knew _everything_. He knew that she'd lied to the Doctor and had kept her true identity from him, and now the Doctor was left to wonder if he wasn't as alone as he believed. Boe was trying to out her, she could see it... urging her to tell him the truth. But she couldn't bring herself to, _not yet_ , not until the time was right...

Her breath hitched as his eyes closed for the final time, one final rasp escaping his lips as Novice Hame began to sob. The Doctor stared on, blinking away the tears as his shock took over at Boe's final words, fizzling away in his brain.

Amara rose to her feet, banishing the guilt from her mind, composing herself. Martha moved to stand beside her, eyeing her for a moment, noticing how rigid she had grown after Boe had spoken to her. "Are you all right?" She whispered in a hushed tone.

Amara nodded, not trusting her voice to speak for her.

Rising to his feet, the Doctor a firm arm around Martha, watching in silence while Amara moved away, her thoughts getting the better of her.

* * *

Wandering the alleys of Pharmacy town, they strolled through the alleys to find it surprisingly deserted as the Doctor smiled knowingly, "All closed down," He commented, glancing around, thankful they'd taken his advice.

"Happy?" Martha jested, though the smile she offered didn't quite reach her eyes. She was worried about Amara – the woman had been quiet ever since leaving the senate, obviously spooked by what the Face of Boe had said to her, though Martha didn't know what to make of it. She guessed the Doctor didn't either, seeing as he hadn't pressed about it just yet, leaving to mull things over.

The Doctor smiled, "Happy happy." He replied as Martha laughed, "New New York can start again – and they've got Novice Hame. Just what _every_ city needs, cats in charge!" He wrapped an arm around Amara's shoulder, expecting to awaken her from her thoughts or for her to shrug him away. Instead, he got nothing. "Come on, time we were off."

Martha stared after the pair as he stared to lead Amara through the alley, "But what did he mean, the Face of Boe?" The Doctor paused as she called after him, her question making him turn, making Amara stop and register Martha's words as well. "" _You're not alone_.""

"I don't know." He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sauntering towards him, Martha smiled. "You've got me. Is that what he meant?" She wondered hopefully, clasping her hands behind her back.

The Doctor shook his head, smiling sadly. "I don't think so, sorry." He told her truthfully; he liked Martha, honestly he did... but there was some things she'd never be able to understand even if she tried. Everything was just too complicated. _Always_.

"Then what?" She countered as Amara folded her arms, interested to see where the conversation was going, and whether they could actually goad him into talking.

"Doesn't matter," The Doctor interjected immediately, turning away from the pair of them to stride down the alley, "Back to the TARDIS, off we go!"

Amara nodded at the chair fallen on the ground and Martha smiled, moving to set it upright before sitting in it primly, folding her arms, smirking as she waited.

Amara smiled at her fondly, "Protesting now?" She asked softly as the Doctor turned around. "Fine, let's make it two." Amara reached for another chair and drew it up beside her, crossing her legs.

Frowning when he could hear only his footsteps, he turned around to see them both sat, arms fold, legs crossed, waiting quietly. "All right, are you both staying?"

"'Till you talk to us properly, yes." Martha argued, not missing the pointed look Amara sent her went she had said " _us_ " rather than " _me"_. "He said " _last of your kind_." What does that mean?"

The Doctor closed his eyes, composing himself, "It _really_ doesn't matter." He tried to wave her off, wanting to go and leave the planet as soon as possible, but with the both of them sat there, he knew that wasn't going to be any time soon.

"You don't talk," Martha sighed, wishing he told her things so she could help him, so she could be there... support him, comfort him... remind that he was alone. It hurt to know that he didn't trust her to know certain things about him, despite the fact that she had trusted him completely – she'd let him take her away in his bloody spaceship! "You _never_ say! Why not?"

Silence between them all as the sound of music rose into the air, drifting softly. Around the hymn vibrated lightly, the New New York citizens singing.

A smile crossed Martha's face, "It's the city... they're singing." She commented as Amara settled into her chair, listening the song contently.

The Doctor watched both women for a moment, knowing that it was more Martha who was desperate to know while Amara was more of the type to be content without whatever she was told, and when he was comfortable. But she supported Martha's decision which made his all the most difficult to contend with. "I lied to you, 'cause I liked it..." He sighed, closing his eyes as he collected himself, swallowing thickly. "I could pretend, just for a bit, I could imagine they were still alive, underneath a burnt orange sky."

Clenching her jaw, Amara glanced at the ground as she forced the tears that her snuck into her eyes away, banishing them from sight while Martha stared up at him in shock. If she couldn't keep it together, then all hell would break loose and she would have to tell him... and there was no way of knowing how that would turn out either.

"I'm not _just_ a Time Lord," The Doctor continued in a quiet voice, sounding so broken and lost, "I'm the _last_ of the Time Lords... the Face of Boe was wrong; there's no one else."

She was internally screaming, wanting to rip off the necklace around her neck if only to banish the tears from his eyes as he spoke, if only to see him smile... to see him happy and whole for if only a moment before he would realise that she'd lied to him. It would be worth it.

Martha shook her head slightly, trying to clear the confusion. "What happened?" She pressed, hesitant, expecting to refuse outright and storm off, skulking back to the TARDIS.

Surprisingly, he didn't.

Instead, he drew up a chair before them, sitting across as she clasped his hands together. "There was a war... a Time War, the last Great Time War," He paused, biting the inside of his cheek as he blinked away more tears. "My fought a race called the Daleks, for the sake of all creation... and they lost. They lost... _everyone_ lost."

 _Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost_. The word rung through Amara's head like a bell, causing memories of the war to sprout in her mind – death, explosions, screaming... _so much death_. So helpless... endless pain, _endless..._

"They're all gone now," He looked down, swallowing thickly before looking up to see them both watching him. "My family, my friends... even that sky." The Doctor let out a shaky breath which made his lip tremble, "Oh, you should have seen it, that old planet. The second sun would rise in the south, and the mountains would... _shine_."

Martha stared at him, stunned that he was actually opening up to her, telling her everything and not lying anymore. She couldn't believe, all that he'd kept hidden from her... and that he had refused to tell her.

"The leaves on the trees were silver, and when they caught the light every morning, it looked like a forest on fire." He told them, smiling softly at the memory, "When the autumn came, the breeze would blow through the branches like a song..."

Amara shuddered, recalling everything from a world now gone... she could see herself there, lost in the mountain snow, sighing... Her eyes flickered to him again when he claimed it was all his fault, refusing to say how it was, but claiming so all the same.

She refused to believe that.

He'd stopped talking though and she'd assumed he'd been swept up in the memories much like she had been, except he wasn't looking at her or Martha, and seemed rather interested in the floor, leaning on his arms.

She also noticed that his voice was hoarse and raspy, unusual to its usual melody that it made her want to cough to clear her own throat. She's not even sure he knows they're still there. Shifting in the chair, she was thankful when he looked up suddenly, his eyes meeting hers for a split second.

They screamed at her, called her a liar and betrayer... she could see the pain, the sorrow and the wisdom, the kindness... the isolation. He was so lonely, that's why he craved companions, someone to travel with to eliminate that desolated existence.

"It sounds beautiful," Martha told him, smiling softly as he managed one himself, a ghost of a smile.

He nodded solemnly, bowing his head again as his shoulders grew rigid, boxing himself in as they watched him do so.

Amara cursed herself, knowing she could help if only she was brave enough to do so... she'd grown so used to hiding, to keeping herself a secret that to reveal her concealment... it was _hard_. And that shocked her. She always thought that if she met him, she'd do it immediately.

The Doctor lifted his head, grinning again. "Right, hopefully that answers all your _never-ending_ questions..." He didn't even wait for her to reply before he stood, his coat falling behind him, billowing as turned, striding away from them.

Rolling her eyes, Amara clambered out her chair and made to follow him, frowning when he didn't look back as poor Martha tried to keep up. It wasn't until the toe of his shoe caught something that wasn't there, and he staggered forwards, stumbling along.

Luckily, Amara managed to wrap her fingers around his elbow to keep him steady, staring as his eyes gradually met hers in frustration, his brows pulled together. He looked more confused. It unnerved her to see him suddenly so uncertain. She tried a smile, "Places to go, right?"

"Doctor," Martha called, "Are you all right?"

Give a brief nod of his head, he gently retrieved his ram from her grip, "Yeah..."

Amara let her hand drop lifelessly as she watched him.

Martha frowned, no idea what had just between the pair of them – she wasn't going to demand answers, or insist that she know... She just... well, that was the thing, she didn't know. "You were brilliant today, 'Mara." Martha cleared the silence, smiling at her friend. "I don't think I would have kept it together if I'd been by myself."

"Well, two minds are better than one," Amara finally look at her, smiling slightly. "Took some convincing though, didn't you?"

Martha went to reply when a wheezing sound left the Doctor's mouth, causing Amara's head to snap in his direction.

He was rubbing his neck with one of his hands while his eyes were closed. Coughing again, Amara's widened as her mind meddled away, hearing the annoyance within his own. The idiot had gone jumping through unbreathable air. Despite not knowing what had occurred on his side-tour, it wasn't hard to work it out from his display.

When his coughing transitioned into a fit, forcing him to double over as he struggled to breathe, she sighed. "Right, okay..." She left Martha to approach him again, settling a hand on his back as she rubbed, hearing him suck in slow breaths to try and control himself.

"Are you all right?" Martha had wandered over as well, brows furrowed in concern, "Is it from the motorway?"

"You idiot. Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did..." Amara sighed as he braced his hands on his knees, his efforts at controlling his breathing failing.

Wheezing again, he choked on the air, "Only a lungful, nothing to..." He stood properly, shaking Amara's hand off as he smiled slightly before spluttering again. "Worry over."

"Lungful or no lungful, you _don't_ go jumping in noxious gases."

"I'm fine," He scowled at Amara before charging off down the alleys again, at his own risk, leaving both women behind. " _Allons-y!_ "

Martha stared, mouth open and eyes wide as he moved away, staring as Amara continued after him. "Is he all right?" She whispered hollowly, wanting to get back to the TARDIS as soon as possible.

Amara saw it happening before it actually did, the tensing of his shoulder, their square shape... staggering as he stumbled to one knee. "You're fine?" Amara scoffed, looping an arm under his, frowning when she heard him croaking. "Respiratory bypass..."

"Doctor!" Martha came running, sucking in sharp breaths as Amara glanced at her. "Oh, right," She ran to his left and helped to haul him to his feet, squirming under his shoulder.

"TARDIS..." He muttered, spluttering,

"We're trying." Amara replied through their drunken attempts to aid him when he was making it more difficult, a dead weight between them. She had a rough idea where she was parked, but how long it would take them to get there... who knew.

He grew heavier with each step they took, pulling him along carefully until Martha stumbled, hissing an wobbling slightly. She stopped to compose her, wriggling her leg. "Martha, are you- " Amara had known she'd hurt herself, but Martha Jones b _eing_ Martha Jones was a trooper.

"It's nothing, I'm fine." She waved Amara off with an eye roll.

The Doctor rasped a "sorry" from above as they continued to help him along. He coughed again, his skin ghostly pale and glistening with a cold, hard sweat as he clung to them.

"Come on," Martha pushed forwards, "We all need rest, I say."

"Good plan of action, Jones." Amara agreed as they continued onward, putting one foot in front of the other as they somehow managed to lead him along successfully. The alley, however, seemed to go on forever and bore no end from what Amara could see.

Rounding a corner, she heard Martha let out a breath of relief at the sight of a familiar blue box in the distance and it made her smile, knowing that she had been fearing the very same as she. It was quite a distance away compared to the speed they were moving at, but even the Doctor seemed to move more smoothly. She didn't if he was making it easier for them or because he had seen the TARDIS as well.

Sighing, Amara cleared her throat. "Almost home and dry," She told them, knowing that while they all _knew_ that, it sounded far b _etter_ to clarify it aloud.

When they arrived, Amara held the Doctor against the door as Martha frowned, not knowing where the key was, not really wanting to root through his pockets. "Trousers pocket," Amara told her thankfully as she pulled his coat out of the way, shoving her hand into one.

He squirmed away, "Honestly, Martha..." He tried to pulled away from her, "Now's not the time..."

Her hand froze when Amara started laughing, seeing the hint of a smile on the Doctor's face at the sound before she finally clasped metal and withdrew the key. "I was looking for your bloody key, mister." She turned away to open the door.

Once open, Amara hauled him inside, tripping over the ramp as he stumbled long before Amara forced him down into the seats stationed around the console. "Right," She turned to the TARDIS, smiling at the sight of the console, knowing she'd have free roam without the Doctor watching her every move. "Let's get you going, shall we..."

The Doctor remained slumped in the chair, staring at her as she buzzed around the console, twisting and flicking levers as Martha moved to his side, "Doctor," She appeared in his line of vision, frowning, "We need to get you to the medbay, so we can sort you out properly."

"I'm... fine..." He murmured, closing his eyes, though Martha wasn't convinced at all.

Rushing around the console, Amara pressed a few more controls, glancing up. "Your best bet is to get him to bed, really." She called from the other side as Martha nodded in agreement. "Might be a bit difficult with the state he's in though."

Reaching for him, she went to grab him until he suddenly pushed himself up and onto his feet, staggering for a moment before moving to the console, reading to work. He pulled off his coat and threw it somewhere behind him, moving to touch a control until Amara slapped his hand away and turned him around.

"Don't," She told him softly, "I've sorted it, everything's fine. Go to bed."

"All safe and sound," He hummed, his voice hoarse and far too raspy for Amara's liking. "Know it all..."

Martha, having picked up his coat and returned it to its proper home, slung over the Y-beam, pressed hand to the top of his head, making him squirm at the contact as Amara looped an arm around him again. He didn't feel too hot or too cold, which wasn't comforting at all.

"I think," He mumbled, frowning deeply as he moved forwards slightly, "Imma... go... to bed."

"Martha, see to that leg," Amara told her, eyeing her left foot with a frown before leading away, despite his resistance. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty."

"I am fine. Just let me do it..." He rubbed his temple in frustration, swallowing thickly, his legs staggering as he continued to mumble incoherently. "I can manage, Mars..."

"I thought you _didn't_ like Mars?" Amara responded, heading for the doorway leading to the corridor, "Hypocrite."

She hadn't thought this through very well. She had no idea where his room precisely was... only hers, Martha's... the essentials. He'd always wander off. She knew he wanted to be left alone, but she was going to do so until he was safely in his bed. They would find it, eventually. She was sure.

"There's something odd about you."

Amara's brows rose at how coherently he'd spoken for the first time in a long while. Looking up at him, she frowned, " _Odd?_ How gratifying," She thought for a moment, leading him along, "Is it a good odd or a bad odd?"

"I'm not sure." He pushed away from her then, wandering along on his own, "It's be here..." He wandered through an arch as she watched him, ready to aid him a no sound met her ears. She frowned.

She heard nothing. Sighing, she down around and continued back the way she came, knowing that it was probably best to leave him alone while he recovered, also knowing that Martha was a doctor, and so that wasn't very likely to pass with her being there.

She returned to find Martha sat in one of the chairs, frowning in thought with her arms crossed. Making her presence known, Amara sighed. "He's down. Well, in a manner of speaking, I think he made it to the bed before collapsing." She informed her, looking at the monitor out of interest.

"So, what happened to him while we were, y'know, kidnapped?" Martha wondered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as Amara looked over at her.

"I think his respiratory bypass system failed him..." She shrugged, not really understand why he had been so affected by the gases when he had an advantage humans _didn't_. "I don't know, because it shouldn't have. Unless, he neglected to use it as he _should_ have."

Martha's eyes were narrowed as she looked at her, "What _even_ is that?" She pressed, screwing up her face. "Because I know the respiratory system _very_ well, believe me, and I've _never_ heard of that."

"You wouldn't have." Amara told her, leaning against the console with a sigh, "It's different to the human respiratory system. The respiratory bypass system is part of Gallifreyan physiology, so Time Lords can go without breathing longer than humans can." She stopped herself, remembering how she hadn't used her in a long time, and also remembering that she shouldn't be demonstrating how _much_ she knew to Martha who was already suspicious. "I think it's backfired or something..." She shrugged, trying to wav it off.

Martha's frown deepened, "Then how'd _you_ know about it?"

"I don't- "

"It's funny, you seem to _know_ a lot about _a lot_ , don't you?" Martha interjected, her tone changing to so that Amara felt like she was being interrogated by her. She found didn't like the sensation at all.

Amara held her gaze firmly, "Do I?"

"Now, you're being evasive about it. _Just like him_." Martha stared her. Ever since the incident with the stethoscope, Amara had been silently bugging her. She knew she was hiding something, though she figured it was probably from the Doctor rather than her, that's why she wanted to know. She was desperate to know. "What did the Face of Boe mean?"

"Pardon?"

Rolling her eyes, Martha couldn't believe she was trying to avoid it. "What he said to you... about _truth_ and _morality_... why did you look so upset?" At her words, all the colour drained from Amara's face and no answer came. "Please, you can tell me... I _won't_ tell the Doctor if that's what you're worried about."

Amara looked away, biting the inside of her cheek. "Martha, now's not a good time..."

"Are you _ever_ gonna tell me?" Martha interjected immediately, her impatience getting the better of her as Amara's head snapped up. "Will you _ever_ tell him?"

"He won't believe me." Came the simple reply with a small smile. A sad smile.

Martha knew the more she begged her, the less likely Amara was actually going to say anything that would be close to actually telling her. Amara could be as difficult as the Doctor if she chose to be. "What is it? What is so _bad_ that you have to hide it from us? From _me_?" They were friends, Amara had said as much, so she couldn't understand why she didn't trust her enough to tell her... she did wonder, though, if the Doctor had any suspicions at all.

"I've been lying to you. It's what _I_ do..." Amara clenched her jaw at the expression Martha wore, an expression of hurt and understanding. "Because I'm _good_ at it."

Martha swallowed, "It's bad?" She guessed, certain that she wouldn't learn anything else about the other mysterious person in the TARDIS besides the Doctor.

Shrugging, Amara didn't see it as good or bad. "Depends how you want to see it..." Martha wouldn't view it as bad because she wouldn't understand, and the Doctor would be conflicted between both, and all Amara would see would be the bad.

"Then tell me?" Martha probed, pleading with her, desperate to know. "Surely it can't be that bad... can it?"

Amara pretended she didn't hear the shift in tone as Martha became fearful suddenly. _At least she had her wits about her..._ "You've a kind heart, Martha Jones." Amara admitted in appraisal, smiling softly before she turned her attention back to the console. "But it's not that simple, I _wish_ it were... people have died because of me, Martha."

Martha was still for a moment, processing her words over in her head, staring at her questioningly. So she was dangerous? But wasn't the Doctor? Or was Amara a different kind of dangerous? Martha wasn't sure, but she was aware that she hadn't even told her anything, barely anything at all. "I'm gonna go check on him..." She backed away, not meeting her eyes, seeing her nod in understanding in the corner of her eye.

Despite what Amara had told her, she still trusted her... she knew she wouldn't hurt her, a part of her had always known that. She just knew that she was hiding something, some that only she, Alvis, and that Captain Jack bloke knew. Martha had also decided that that whole TARDIS mango-grab thing was a ploy to get her aboard the TARDIS. She'd confront her about that, too.

Martha sighed to herself, realising that despite not knowing where she was _actually_ going, she found herself just inches from a door. A door she'd never seen before. She'd never seen his room before, or been in it. Raising her hands, she knocked.

The door was already open, as though the TARDIS wanted her to check on him, as though Amara had also known she would wander off, tired of her. Standing at the doorframe, she had to psych herself up before stepping in. Taking a deep breath, she glanced around as she entered.

The room looked exactly like hers, though she noted the personal items scattered around, collected from other planets she assumed, casting shapes in the darkness. There was a connection to him in the room, the air shifted, she could _feel_ it change.

When her eyes finally landed on his sprawled form, she had to remind herself not to laugh. Limbs dangling off in every direction, fully dressed, Converse and all, face hidden in the depths of the pillow. Despite that, his breathing was still hoarse.

She had even realised her feet had led her over to the bed until she pressed a hand to his forehead, checking his temperature again, finding it still too warm for what she guessed was his usual temperature. She didn't know if she needed to do something, or if there was anything for her to. She could use her training but he never told her anything, so it was effectively useless. Besides, Amara who seemed to know _too_ much, didn't seemed fussed and just let him get on with it... _is that what I should do?_

She planned to ask him about his physiology and about medical equipment from other planets, and even if he refused, she was sure Amara would help her out in that department.

Stepping back when she saw him shift, Martha waited for him to open his eyes. But he didn't, instead he started to mutter incoherently under his breath, his voice faint and ragged. Kneeling beside the bed, she frowned when she realised that he was actually speaking another language, a language she didn't know.

Eyelids flickering open, blinking. Shutting. Blinking again before opening and glancing around. Martha smiled at him, "Good to see you're all right," She begun, sighing softly, "Is there anything I can do... can I help in anyway? I feel useless not doing anything while you're like this..."

The Doctor merely stared at her, frowning, as though he was processing who she was and it terrified her, it terrified her to see him this vulnerable when he had been so, so brilliant since they'd met.

Looking around, he clearing his throat, "Where's Rose?" He asked in a quiet voice, sounding panic as he glanced around, his vision obscured by the pillows.

Martha was up off the floor in an instant. She felt like she'd just been slapped. She knew he couldn't help it because of the state he was in, but she just... it was infuriating knowing she was playing second fiddle to this _Rose_.

The Doctor's eyes followed her curiously when Martha realised she had supplied an answer for his question. She didn't know how to answer it to be honest. She was tense, trying to think of a suitable reply, one that wouldn't upset him.

Her first thought was to tell him that _she'd gone_. Or to shake him until he actually knows that it's her, _Martha Jones_. But that wouldn't do either of them any good. She should have just stayed with Amara, and hoped that with some more probing that she would have told her what she was hiding.

"Martha." Her name left his lips and she smiled despite her resolve, looking over to see him smiling slightly.

"I'm here," She told him, still smiling. "Now, I'm going to go for a bit, but I'm sure Amara will be in check on you soon. All right?" She took his hand in hers, making sure he was listening to her.

He nodded softly, his eyelids drooping slightly. "All right... doctor..." He murmured, rolling over in the bed so that he no longer faced her.

Pausing in her movements, she realised she didn't want to leave him a long. He'd just her called a doctor, which she was. She didn't want to leave him. How could she when he was like this? In such a state?

But she did anyway.

* * *

Perhaps she should have told Martha instead of scaring her. She'd seen the glint of fear in her eyes when she spoke, and it upset her to know that she had caused it.

She would expect the conversation to be like the one she shared with Jack. Except Martha wasn't Jack, and Jack was someone who understood. Martha was new to it all.

"No one survived," She whispered back and swallowed thickly; "Every night I dream, I replay the War, piece by piece, and I despair... I despair of betrayal, bitter betrayal. I couldn't save them; nobody won," she told the console, running her hands over the controls idly, her shoulders heavy.

The rotor hummed, moving slowly and she smiled.

Amara placed her hands against it, watching it as it moved. "It could not be helped... I blame myself, as does he." She sighed as she recalled the time in which she could have loved and lived contently.

Closing her eyes, she swore she could the echoing of songs gliding through the air, soft. Looking up, she smiled when she saw the burning orange sky glittering above her.

 _Stretching out a hand, she sighed when she felt the blades of grass tickle her fingertips. They encircled around the blades, the body rubbing against the insides of her palm. Crimson, real..._

 _Her breath hitched in her throat as she gazed at the sight before her that caused her hearts to jump with her chest, fluttering like little butterflies._

 _Gallifrey had changed in all her preserved memories, carefully tucked away from prying eyes, alive, bright and ancient. Manifesting every now and then before her very eyes... still and welcoming as it had always been._

 _She basked in the orange glimmer of the night, shielded in its warm glow, snow capping the infinite mountains that encased her... shining. Her eyes caressed the mountains of Solace and Solitude before she saw the dome of the capital reaching for the sky, colossal in the orange night._

 _From where she stood she could see the citadel of the Time Lords enclosed within the walls of the dome, recalling her time there and bristling slightly._

 _Amara closed her eyes for a single moment, recalling the faint breeze as it kissed her face, slowly blowing through the trees. Sighing, she sunk down into the red grass where she stayed, watching silently._

 _Slowly as always, the second sun crept up from behind the capital, its first rays crawling over the surrounding mountains, making the snow that had previously crystallised, glitter. The mountains shone as the glow crept towards the trees, ascending to reach the silver leaves. The mere sight reminded her of a fire._

 _The thought made her chest pranged with a sudden guilt. Sorrow puling at her hearts as she recalled how all the beauty was stolen from her._

 _The scene shifted then, Dalek vessels falling from such heights, dancing with TARDISes as large pieces of debris screeched through the orange sky, soiling the world with their fire, destroying her home, tainting it with death and sorrow._

 _Her feet were planted in a field of red grass which swayed in which direction the next explosion sounded, blades of grass illuminated equally by the suns and the light of explosions in the distance._

 _Her hearts broke as she saw them, Dalek vessels and TARDISes falling from the sky like the shooting stars she dreamed off._ __People were running, screaming, dying, and she, the Lady, was utterly helpless. Tears burned her eyes as her hearts ached at the mere sight. She yearned to end all the suffering, but she knew she would only create more.__

Pulling herself out of the trance just as the city burned in the flames, the dome bursting under the force of the heat and the glass shattering, cries of agony as those below were crushed, she removed herself.

Clenching her fists, she fought back the tears that stung her eyes, trying to blink them away as some broke free, slithering down her cheeks. She deserved the torment. She had abandoned them all, left them all to die. She left them to their doomed fate.

Looking around when she heard the echo of footsteps, she wiped her face when she saw Martha. "Right, so answers... there are many..." She drummed her hand on the console before noticing that Martha looked conflicted and utterly confused. "Martha?"

Martha didn't meet her eyes, "You can look after him. I'm going to bed." She turned to walk away again, leaving Amara standing there, very confused and at a loss for words.

Seizing her arm, Amara pulled her back for a moment, worried. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Martha brushed her off, moving away as Amara frowned.

She couldn't help but notice the annoyed look on her face as she marched off again, knowing that the Doctor must have said something to her in his state. And so, she decided that if Martha were to ask again she would tell her.

Finding her feathers ruffled, Amara pushing off of the console and started off in the same direction that Martha had done, seeing the woman going through a door at the end of the corridor while she continued ahead, intending to check on the Doctor.

Pushing open the door to his room, she smiled when she saw his pinstripe suit jacket on the floor in a heap. Stooping, she retrieved it and set it down over the back of a nearby chair before continuing towards the bed. Her smiled when she found that his breathing seemed to sound near enough normal which was always a good sign.

Hearing him muttering, she smiled more when she recognised the language as she pressed a hand to his forehead, smoothing the damp hair out of the way to find his temperature having cooled somewhat. Another good sign.

Sighing, she knelt beside the bed seeing as he neglected to leave any room for her to perch on the side, listening to his voice and the speed at which he was speaking to whatever he was seeing in his mind.

She couldn't help herself, so she laced their hands together, rubbing a pattern across his knuckles with her thumb, listening to the words as they left his mouth. She didn't register the slowing of the words as she concentrated on them, replaying them over in her own mind until he stopped altogether, his eyes flickering open.

"'Mara..."

Her eyes trailed to him, smiling. "Hello, Spaceman. How are you feeling?"

He blinked at her for a moment, licking his lips before squinting in thought, "A bit... mud..." He frowned, trying to concentrate and failing, finding he was unable to focus properly. "I feel muddled." He managed, lifting his head, propping himself up to find him being pushed down again.

"I think you might have upset Martha by accident," She told him when he continued to squint at her, properly wondering why she was there. "I came to check on you before going to bed seeing as you wandered off earlier."

Leaning over the edge, he frowned at her. "What're you doing down there?" Sighing, he made to move, as though he was trying to get up but his arms gave way, causing him to face back into the depths of the bed with a soft _oomph_.

Amara chuckled softly, watching as he moved his face, his glassy eyes watching her. "Are you all right, Spaceman?"

His eyes were somewhere else, looking down over the edge of the bed, his free hand gripping the mattress of the bed as his breathing grew shallow. "Long, long, long... way down that is," He continued to stare at the ground and Amara's brow furrowed.

"Spaceman?" She got the idea of what he was thinking and it put her on edge all over again, "It's all right, y'know... Martha and I, we're fine. Safe." She tried to make him look at her, his head twisting in her direction, his hair stuck to his forehead again. "You _saved_ us, you _saved_ the city. You and Boe."

"You don't understand," He begged, a dark look crossing his face suddenly and she couldn't look away from him. _Was he delirious? I thought that only happened with ginger..._ "They're down there, all alone because I lied." His eyes were glued to the floor, "I got to help them, save them..."

"Just so you know," Amara started, pushing him back down onto the bed again, " _I'm_ quite clever, _you're_ quite clever... how about we make a plan, yeah?"

Nodding, he didn't argue with her as she climbed to her feet, making him budge over so she could sit on the bed, tucking a leg beneath her. She frowned when she noticed that he was almost still dressed, and she knew he couldn't have been at all comfortable.

What was annoying her more was that she knew for certain that he had been jumping down from the cars in pursuit of herself and Martha. "So, are you going to admit it?"

Opening an eye, he looked at her. "Admit what?"

"That you're an idiot." He screwed his face up at the insult. "We both _know_ that you _jumped_ out of several cars on that motorway, there's no point denying it."

He grinned, his eyes closing again. "Just like Tarzan."

" _Trees_ not cars," Amara reminded with a smirk, pressing a hand to his chest to feel the rhythm of each heart, "Don't do that again, you scared poor Martha half to death back there..." She chided, ignoring his grin, as she eyed a book lying beneath a pillow. "What is this I see, mister?" She retrieved the book and nodded, "" _Do not go gentle into that good night_ ", why am I not surprised?"

"Give it back..." He tried to prise it from hers but she pulled it back.

"As if you haven't read it over and over again."

Pushing himself up, he leaned against the back of the bed and watched her eyeing the book before relenting. "Go on," He nodded to it expectantly as she stared him, awaiting. "I've never had someone else read it to me..."

When he looked away, Amara swallowed and opened it, caressing the pages. "How many books have you read?" She wondered, earning a smile from him immediately.

"Countless."

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she made a mental note that reading would more or less become a regular novelty soon enough. "I suppose we'll be reading for a very long time then." She conceded softly, edging further onto the bed so that she was positioned against the headboard, his head lying on a pillow as he listened. " _Do not go gentle into that good night,_ _old age should burn and rave at close of day_ , _rage, rage against the dying of the light._ _.."_

Listening to her as she read to him, the Doctor smiled at the softness of her voice, shifting so he was staring up at her, watching her eyes glide across the page, her mouth moving. He couldn't help but stare as a small smile formed across her lips.

It was only then that he noticed her hand still rested on his chest. He didn't bother to move it, in fact, he found he quite liked it there.


	7. VI

Squinting through blurriness, he rolled over and pushed himself up off the bed and was almost poked in the eye by the collar of his shirt in its ascension to point. Rubbing his eyes, he cleared his throat and found he was no longer wheezing which was _always_ good.

He eyed his shoes which were still attached to his feet before casting his eyes around the room to find it silent and quite empty unlike it had been previously; he knew Martha hadn't come to check on him again (he figured he'd said something to upset her) but he couldn't recall when Amara left him. He didn't remember her saying " _good night_ " or leaving the bed.

He must have fallen asleep and he'd assumed she didn't want to wake him, she must have snuck out so he could sleep uninterrupted. Still, he found that slightly rude knowing when he'd asked her to read to him. He found her peculiar until he saw _1984_ neatly tucked beside his pillow with a bookmark peering out of it. Then he smiled.

Reaching for the book, he turned it over and inspected the bookmark as a smirk crossed his face when he realised that she must have removed his tie and shoved it in the book. Of course she'd picked a science fiction novel. He'd ask her to read _Macbeth_ next, then _Merchant of Venice_... some Edgar Allan Poe too.

Grinning to himself, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and chose to set to work on taking Martha Jones on a proper trip after his little episode. He seemed to have immense difficulty with that; two places visited and still no " _WOW FACTOR_ " that would repay her for saving his life. Amara's arrival had sort of overshadowed it. Not that he minded. Martha probably did but was too nice to say anything.

The funny thing was though, he'd promised her one trip and that _one_ had turned into _two_. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea having two companions until Martha was ready to go home... he knew that with being in mind, Amara wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

Strolling into the console room, the Doctor smiled when he saw Amara fiddling with console, flicking levers and twisting some controls. " _"Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.""_ Collapsing into the jump-seat, he folded his hands behind his head and sighed, reclining.

"" _If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself."_ " Turning to face him, she noted that he looked far better than he did yesterday, and looked as though he had slept. Leaning against the console, she smiled at him. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty... or was it Tarzan? I'm not quite sure."

"What?" He frowned at her, wondering what she was going on about, finding that his mind was still slightly fuzzy from the previous day's activities.

"You called yourself Tarzan," Amara finally looked at him then, "When you admitted to jumping from car to car on the motorway, apparently wanting to inflate your already _ridiculous_ ego to the size of a giant peach so I can call you James."

The Doctor chuckled at her gentle mocking, finding it all knew and foreign to him. He hadn't been this playful with anyone since Rose and it was nice. "But that's trees, isn't it?" The Doctor countered which made her laugh, obviously meaning that she had gone through that with him during his delirious state.

"I thought so as well," She slapped his hand away when he went to flick a lever over. "I definitely think Martha's annoyed with you, though."

He winced, wondering what he could have done to annoy his latest companion, "Right..." The Doctor hadn't even seen her yet, and he could feel his worry rising within him. "So, where is she? What did I do?"

Amara shrugged, apparently none-the-wiser. "No idea, I haven't seen her yet." She had known why Martha had been annoyed with him; he'd called her Rose and she hadn't taken kindly to it. The Doctor had done the same with her but she'd ignored it. She looked him over for a moment, tilting her head and frowning. "No brown pinstripe today? _Shocker_."

The Doctor smiled, finding that as soon as Martha was ready to get on with her life, he knew he and Amara would do absolutely fine on their own. They got on _so_ well, it was easy and effortless. _Wonderful_. "That was the plan until someone decided my tie suited the purpose of a bookmark rather than a piece of attire." He explained with an eye roll, tugging on the loose burgundy one he wore.

Amara smirked, "Sacrilege."

She was so different for how she had been leaving yesterday and that worried him, it worried him because he knew she was still hiding something from him and he respected that, he did, but he wanted them to be honest with one another. Clearing his throat, he pushed off of the chair so he could lean against the console on his elbows, "I forgot to ask, what the Face of Boe said about " _eye forever closed_ " and " _truth is the substance of morality_ "... what did he mean by that?" He frowned when he saw her face twitch slightly.

"I don't know." Amara had known he would ask about that sooner or later, and she knew that Boe had known the truth about her and it had unnerved her but she couldn't afford for the Doctor to become aware of her identity. No until she found _him_. "It's been bugging me, y'know, just niggling away in my head. I can't make it out but it must be significant for some reason otherwise why he mentioned it?"

Drumming his fingers against the side of his head, he ran a hand through his hair, musing it. "It might become important in the future, you never know." His own mind was running, doing somersaults at what Boe had told him; that he wasn't alone, and that there were others who had survived the war. He wanted to believe that to be true but he'd been alone for so long that he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"Probably," She agreed with a faint nod. She could only wonder when she would find him and be revealed. Time would only tell which she found oddly poetic for being a Time Lady. "But " _you're not alone_ ", what do you make of that?" She countered, wanting to know his take on what he'd been told.

Boe had been wrong, about everything. No one had survived the war. "It's a lie. I'm the last of the Time Lords... Gallifrey burned; we lost everything." He was adamant that Boe had only spooked him... he'd been on his own for so long, wandering the universe alone and to think, just for a single moment, that Boe could be right – it made him sick to his stomach to think he had abandoned what had survived, what had remained. "Boe got it wrong, there is _no one_ else. There can't be."

Her hearts pranged at his words, _if only you knew Space man, if only you knew..._ "Does it bother you not knowing the truth or not?" She probed, wanting know if he had thought anymore of it.

"Of course it _bothers_ me."

Amara frowned, evaluating him for a moment before she next spoke, seeing Martha appear suddenly as she wandered over to them. "Then you're not sure what to believe."

Hearing footsteps behind him, he glanced around, thankful that he didn't have to reply, grinning when he saw Martha, "So!" He jumped to his feet, "Where in the universe shall we go, Doctor Martha Jones?"

Martha gaze flickered over to Amara for a moment, "Not just yet," she sighed, deciding that she wanted the Doctor to know she was angry and annoyed. She didn't want to be the rebound to heal his loneliness. She hated broken men. "Admit that you're lonely, and that you're..."

"Martha, is this necessary?" Amara interjected softly, not seeing the conversation ending well at all.

"Just," Martha sighed, "Just admit it."

The Doctor smiled, "Of course I'm not lonely, I have my two lovely ladies to keep me company!" He grinned at the both them, trying to ignore the subject of conversation but from Amara's sympathetic expression, he knew Martha wasn't about to let it drop into nothing, into a distant memory. "There's no doubt that I'm lonely," He sighed, his grin falling, "I _know_ that and you _know_ that."

Martha folded her arms nearly across her chest, "But just think-"

"Martha, don't." The Doctor warned, holding his hand up to stop her, his eyes void of emotion. He wasn't sure he could handle a conversation too close too home... "Don't."

Amara sighed, clenching her jaw, "Martha..."

Martha shut her mouth abruptly and the Doctor winced, "I'm sorry," He breathed, crossing his hands before scratching behind his ear. "Off we go, then?"

"I didn't mean to," Martha let out quietly, noticing how he wouldn't look at her.

The Doctor grinned, and it almost scared Martha and left Amara feel very uncomfortable. "Martha Jones," He sighed, "Doctor Martha Jones..." He breathed with a slight expression of wistful thought, frowning slightly as he trailed off into silence.

Martha stared at him, intrigued, finding she wanted to know more about Rose, finding that only the small pieces of information he'd led slip weren't enough to satisfy her need to know. She wanted to know why he was so hung up over her, and why he'd let her leave if that was the case. He was obviously still in love with her.

Her brow furrowed when she watched him turn to Amara, gravitating around her to flick a lever which made her scowl softly. She'd also noticed that they'd been spending a lot of time together without her, and she wondered if perhaps...

"You're too eager," She heard Amara scold him and she smiled at their interaction as she slapped his hand away again which made the Doctor smile wistfully.

She didn't want to ruin his mood, the mood that Amara seemed to be able to provide and maintain through simple things. But she needed to know.

"Do you want to, y'know, talk about it?"

Sitting in the chair on New Earth had worked but she knew forcing him wouldn't work a second time, but she hoped he would talk to her. He talked to Amara, she was sure of it.

She noticed that Amara was now watching her whilst the Doctor refused, keeping his eyes fixed on her as she held her gaze steadily. "About... about _Rose_."

He visibly flinched at the mention of her name, and she knew if she didn't ask, he'd never tell her. Ever. "I've been in your position, you're evasive and don't want to acknowledge it but I know it's better to talk about it so you can move on and- " She cut herself off when she saw his head snap over to look at her, his eyes glowering darkly as he caught her choice of words, his jaws clenching in vexation.

"What..." He seethed, breathing through his phone harshly, his eyes moving away from her as he gripped the side of the console. "Has ever given you the impression that I want to " _move on_ "?"

Blinking, Amara could see him taking her home that very instant, no goodbye, no nothing and never seeing her again. She couldn't let that happen to Martha, not Martha Jones who was brilliant and wonderful. But she didn't want to prolong the Doctor's pain either, "Stop it." She breathed, seeing Martha move in the corner of her eye.

"I never-"

The Doctor cut her off smoothly, his eyes not meeting hers once, "Why would you even suggest-" He never finished his own counter-argument as Amara stepped in, her own frustration getting the better.

They couldn't carry on bickering over sensitive subjects. It was driving her insane. "Stop it. Just _stop_ it, both of you. Right now." Her voice had risen above its usual serene volume, causing both the Doctor and Martha to stare at her, slightly alarmed by the change. "Martha's deduction is spot on; you are evasive, and it's frustrating. It frustrating to know that she feels that you _don't_ trust her. It's frustrating as a bystander to watch you lie to her because you _like_ it."

The Doctor stared at her, frowning before shaking his head slightly, he couldn't have her taking Martha's side. He was still reeling from losing Rose, he wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone... "Don't start with- "

Reaching for his arm, she forced him to look at her, "You need to understand that she's not trying to replace Rose. She _wants_ to be your companion, and god bless her, she _keeps_ trying! She's so patient, and brilliant, and lovely, and kind!" She pleaded as he stared her, his eyes holding hers as she spoke, wanting him to know that Martha Jones was a good person, and that Martha Jones was special. There would only be one Rose. There would only be one Martha. _How hard was it?_ "All these things, and you push them away for this shell. Cold and distant... _alone_."

She could see he was hurting, she'd seen that the very moment she'd set eyes on him. He projected a carefully crafted façade that wouldn't let people get suspicious, he kept himself guarded and alert and took people away.

Swallowing, she squeezed his arm faintly, her hearts growing heavy as she registered what she was about to say. "Rose isn't coming back." Immediately, his face contorted at her words, ready to bite back with such a ferocity that pursued her own tongue. "But that doesn't mean you've got to get over her, that's _not_ what Martha meant. You don't talk about anything, you're quiet, you're evasive..." He grew quiet again, his head dropped and his eyes wandered the console aimlessly, absently. "So when you're faced with a situation like this, you recoil and say impulsive things you _don't_ mean."

Martha gave a sigh of relief as she watched Amara handle the problem she'd caused, watched as she reasoned with him and explained what she couldn't. Perhaps she wasn't cut out for the companion life... she asked too many questions and wanted to learn everything there was to know... perhaps the Doctor didn't want that, never looked for that in a companion.

"What's even more frustrating is that you don't realise how lucky you are! How _fortunate_ you are-"

The Doctor bristled at that, rolling his eyes irritably, "Don't start with the synonyms." His eyes flew to Amara as she stared at him, her brow furrowed and firm.

"Fortunate! Blessed! _Fortuitous!_ You've hit it big! Lucky, lucky, _lucky!_ " She gritted her teeth, seething with frustration at the incredibly frustrating, infuriating being before her. It seemed all Time Lords were same, they all seemed to share the same arrogance and ignorance that drove her potty. "Oh, and look! _Serendipitous!_ " She caught the betrayal of a smile on her lips before he realised and it vanished. _Too late_. "And it's annoying to know that you don't appreciate that because you're clinging onto memories; you're sad, lonely and _isolated_."

Scoffing, the Doctor shook his head, "You don't know- "

"I've been there, I'm sure Martha has as well..." She looked over at her friend and smiled, waving the woman over so that the Doctor was cornered and had nowhere to run. "All this hard exterior and pretending you don't have a care in the world – this was me until people got caught up in that way of life. Implicated and helpless, lost _forever_." Amara paused for a moment, recalling how choosing to be stoic had ruptured so many consequences. She'd been so selfish and futile when it mattered. She let people die, she gave up on them while they _never_ gave up on her. "You act like this, people _die_ , and you'll be _forever_ alone."

"I don't want to talk about her." The Doctor explained softly.

Martha cleared her throat, "You don't have to."

"No one's forcing you to." Amara added as he finally looked up again, his eyes clear of the dark void that had consumed his brown orbs for a few moments. "Martha's worried about you because you never say anything..." She damned herself for what she was about to say, "I think Martha deserves an apology."

He looked at her hard for a moment, his eyes surveying her as he frowned, evidently thinking what she'd over in his head, mulling over her words carefully before he eventually swallowed. "Yeah," The Doctor nodded in agreement before turning to the shorter woman, "Martha, I know that you're brilliant along with the other things... but Rose, she was... she _is_ special to me, and I'm _not_ ready for that. I'm sorry, I am but I _can't_ , not right now at least." He didn't know if he'd ever be ready to move, whether he'd ever find someone else who could fill the chasm she left behind. It was undeniable feat.

Martha sent him a tentative smile, wary after approaching such a stupid subject and expecting him to be reasonable about. _Her_ version of reasonable, at least. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have kept on and pushed..." Martha laughed nervously, feeling so embarrassed for ruining the ease their little group had by her big gob. "Gosh, things are going to be so awkward now."

"As if," Amara scoffed, she'd go to hell and back before their collective grew awkward. "I think we all need to talk more. I'll go first! So... I am an intergalactic fugitive on the run, who he's harbouring despite the risks because he thinks I'm useful." Amara rushed out hastily with an amused smile, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels as Martha's eyes grew wide. "Good, eh?"

"Wait..." Martha looked to the Doctor who wore a small smile at the confession which left her wondering how long they'd kept it secret between them as he didn't seem the least bit surprised by what she'd just said. "You're a criminal and you didn't _think_ to tell me?" She was mortified.

"No, not a _real_ criminal, not like that." Amara a gave soft shake of her head, still finding that she was confused by the thing herself. "I just like talking, talk too much and then they want you dead. Besides, do I look like a criminal to you?" She poised the question, folding her arms. She'd stolen a few parts, taken others and fiddled, anger some people... "I'm far _too nice_ for that hedonistic lifestyle... supposedly armed and dangerous, I'm a master villain charged with war crimes I _didn't_ commit."

Martha had to admit that from the criminals she'd met, she would never have said Amara was one. But then again, neither would have she ever said that the Doctor was the last of the Time Lords. "You learn something new every day."

"All the more fun," the Doctor tried, only just managing a smile.

"Now, we all have our faults," Amara continued, fiddling with the console again, twisting and turning controls, pressing and clicks as the Doctor watched with an arched brow. "Martha _worries_ too much, you're _still in love_ with Rose, and me, well, I _keep_ secrets because it makes me feel better. _Sontar-ha!_ " Flicking a lever, she grinned as the TARDIS jerked softly causing the other two to stumble on their feet slightly. "What a bunch of misfits we are..."

Martha laughed to herself, finding it rather amusing to see how Amara had taken charge of the entire situation, "So, you're flying this thing?" Her eyes looked over at the Doctor to see him looking rather relaxed, having returned to the jump-seat.

"Not a thing, Jones. _Never_ a thing, a thing of beauty, yes, but never _just_ a thing." Amara explained as she rolled her eyes, pressing her palm onto the rotor as the TARDIS hummed, jolting slightly. "I've picked a spot, a nice one with no playwrights or Carrionites, no Macra or poisonous gases or traffic jams." She glanced over at the Doctor, "No funny business, a good old-fashioned adventure awaiting right outside those doors..."

"We've landed?" Martha's eyes widened as she looked towards the door, feeling slightly apprehensive. "Why can't you pilot like 'Mara?" Martha threw the question at the Doctor smoothly, making Amara laugh as she grabbed her own coat, throwing the Doctor's at him.

"Oi!" He glowered at her before pulling it on, "I can't help it if I never passed, can I?" He grinned cheekily before starting forwards to follow the two women as they neared the door, an eager Martha buzzing along. "How do you _even_ know how to pilot a TARDIS?" He could deny his suspicions at how easy she had made it look, but he put it down to her stalking his movements and because she was well acquainted with consoles.

"I watched, I learnt... and not from _you_." Amara countered, making him laugh as Martha bounded along in front of her.

Yanking back the door, Martha stepped through with Amara following behind as a large grin appeared on her face. "Where are we?" She frowned, glancing over at Amara, unable to hide her grin.

" _Start spreadin' the news, I'm leavin' today..._ " Amara breathed with a whistle, flashing a smile as she shoved her hands into her pockets, fully of mirth. " _I want to be a part of it..._ "

The Doctor laughed as he briskly walked out of the TARDIS, squeezing Amara's shoulder. " _New York, New York._ " He added, wiggling his brows. He was grateful that she'd managed to make Martha so happy by taking her somewhere so simple, so easy... somewhere she'd always wanted to go.

He would keep her, she was a _keeper_. Amara could make Martha smile, she could make him smile. She was the brightness they needed in the TARDIS, the exhilaration they needed to keep them on their toes. He was growing more and more fond of her, he'd stopped bothering to deny it.

Swinging her arms through the air, Amara twirled around in awed amusement, devouring Martha's shock. " _These vagabond shoes are longing to stray_..."

" _Right through the very heart of it, New York, New York!_ " Martha beamed, practically vibrating with excitement as she glanced around at their surroundings frantically. "Is that... _oh my God!_ That's the Statue of Liberty!" She gaped in shock before flinging herself at Amara, wrapping her arms around her tautly, squeezing.

Amara smiled as she returned Martha's tight embrace, "Bravo, chaps!" She pulled away, slinging an arm over Martha's shoulders lazily, "You said to me that you'd never gone to New York, and well, _you got some punch, pizzaz, yahoo and how_."

Laughing, Martha felt at ease for the first time since approaching the subject of Rose. "Oh, I love you." She sighed, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Amara grinned at her, " _See, all you gotta do is rub that lamp, and I'll say: "Miss Jones, ma'am, what will your pleasure be? Let me take your order, jot it down?" You ain't never had friend like me_." She laughed as she finished, "New York is _always_ a good idea."

Smiling at the women, the Doctor felt his himself relax. "Ah, smell that Atlantic breeze," the Doctor inhaled deeply, knowing he would have to let Amara pilot the TARDIS more often if she could make Martha so happy. "Nice and cold. Lovely spot, 'Mara."

"I'm good, aren't I?" She flashed a smile in his direction before looking up at the Statue of Liberty, saluting with a smirk. "Gateway to the New World," Amara beamed at Martha's enthusiasm.

" _'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to break free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these…_ '"

"'… _the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,_ _I lift my lamp beside the golden door_ ,'" Amara concluded wistfully, returning the smile the Doctor sent her.

"That's _so_ brilliant," Martha let out in awe, "I've always wanted to go to New York. I mean the _real_ New York, not the new, new, new, new, new…" She trailed off, wandering around the island's platform, gawping at the skyline.

" _It's up to you, New York, New York_." Amara sung light-heartedly, humming to herself as her eyes scanned the Manhattan skyline. A deserving sight for a deserving woman. "Ka-chow... I wasn't going to take _my_ Martha Jones to some _phony_ pretender when the original beholds _such_ wondrous adventures." She smiled at the view of Manhattan, so serene, so silent...

"Well, there's the genuine article," the Doctor broke the silence that had fallen around them, grateful that there had been a third trip, that Amara had taken matters into her own hands and amended the misunderstanding from earlier. "So good, they named it twice. Mind you, it was New Amsterdam originally. Harder to say twice. No wonder it didn't catch on. New Amsterdam, New Amsterdam."

Rolling her eyes, Amara should have known that the silence would have never lasted. She laughed at the thought, drawing his attention to her. "What... what did I do?" He smiled at her, confused as she shook her head.

He continued to stare at her while she carried on smiling, and behind that smile, he couldn't help but wonder what she was hiding. He liked that though, he liked that she wasn't obviously and plain. She was intriguing.

"Tell me," the Doctor pressed playfully, moving towards her.

Amara shrugged, "Nothing in particular."

"I wonder what year it is," Martha breathed, pointing somewhere in the distance as they both followed her finger, "'cos look, the Empire State Building's not even finished yet!" She exclaimed as the building stood still a work-in-progress.

"Work-in-progress." The Doctor nodded, "Still got a couple floors to go, and if I know my history, that makes the date somewhere around…"

"1930, Spaceman." Amara asserted with a smirk.

Nudging her side, he smiled softly. "I should let you fly her more often," he looked at her and though; he had suppressed the urge to pester about how she knew _exactly_ how to operate a TARDIS as well as she did, but instead, found himself not opposed to the idea of her piloting seeing as she was so good at doing it.

Amara smirked in her own smugness, "I'd be obliged-"

"But," the Doctor interjected as he caught her eye, his smile remaining fixated on his lips, "Only if we embark on the art of story-telling." He chuckled when she rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder.

"November 1, 1930," Martha's voice interrupted them, her attention glued to a newspaper which had been abandoned on a nearby bench that she held in her hands, eyeing the pair of them curiously.

The Doctor smiled at her, "You're getting good at this."

Rolling her eyes, she passed the paper over to him as she caught the frown befalling across Amara's face as she looked at the paper, having seen something she'd missed. "Righty years ago... it's funny 'cos you see all those old newsreels in black and white like it's so far away, but here we are. It's _real_. It's now," She breathed in excitement, grinning widely, "Come on then, you two," She looked between the pair of them as they stood reading the paper, engrossed, "Where do we go first?"

Amara's brow furrowed further when her eyes zeroed in on the repeated word " _disappearances_ ", sighing as she came to realise that the trip would be just any normal trip. "So much for light-hearted."

The Doctor frowned, "I think our detour just got longer," he added, holding up the paper and pointing to the headline as Amara grimaced.

" _'Hooverville Mystery Deepens_ ,'" Martha read aloud, shrugging before frowning in thought, "What's Hooverville?"

"Central Park." Amara announced with a sigh, " _These little town blues, are melting away. I'll make a brand new start of it, in old New York..."_ She started forwards, her hands sinking into her pockets as she wrapped her coat around her while trying to ignore the bad feeling that had besought her thoughts.

Whistling to herself, her eyes danced across the canopies of the tress that hung above them, their branches swinging precariously in greeting, brittle fingers cracked as they glittered in a bright verdant hue.

Smiling to herself, Amara found she was elated. She was thrilled she had made Martha so happy, having achieved something the Doctor hadn't, ensured their friend's excitement a little longer.

Martha looked over at Amara as the woman continued to hum along to herself, smiling before turning to spare a glance at the Doctor who also wore a soft smile, "So, why a doctor of all things?"

"Another question already?" The Doctor looked at her, "You're getting greedy."

She knew that she should lay off the questions for a while and leave him be, but she was still so intrigued by him. So much left unanswered because she knew she wasn't meant to ask too many questions. But she wanted to know. Wanted. Needed. Desired. She sounded like a stalker, hung up over some man who had swept her away... quite literally in this case.

"The Doctor," Martha mused when she saw him looking at her peculiarly, a curious look on his face, "That can't be your real name... is it?"

He smiled at her though it reminded Martha more of a frown than an _actual_ smile. "Is it inherited? Or is that what you actual name means in my language?" She pressed, grinning like a madman. "What is your real name?"

He looked at her, and for a moment, she thought she'd been speaking entire gibberish because he was looking at her as though she was an entirely different language, blinking and saying nothing. She couldn't help it; she wanted to know the alien beside her.

She wanted to know him, to comfort him when that familiar look crossed his face, when his eyes grew dark. She wanted to be there for him like he was there for her, protecting her... She still fancied more than that but he practically looked right through her.

"It was the name _I_ chose," His voice drifted out in a soft whisper, almost inaudible.

Amara smiled gently, "Deft, yet suave. Fits you well, it compliments your cheek bones, too." She teased as he looked at her, enticed by her comment as she hoped to bring a smile to his sudden solemn face. "Healer of time... ' _we don't heal the past by dwelling there; we heal the past by living fully in the present.'_ "

"And I always thought it was the hair..." He smiled when he felt her poke his cheek with her forefinger, humming in reply.

"Your hair makes you look like a porcupine.," Amara retorted, facing away from them before calling over her shoulder: "Or a hedgehog; they're more friendly."

The Doctor laughed, throwing his head back which annoyed Martha. She'd asked a serious question that deserved a serious answer. "Are you insulting my hair?" He scoffed to himself, "I'll have you know, _all_ the women like my hair."

"I beg to differ."

Martha's brow furrowed as a hundreds questions rushed onto the tip of her tongue, trying to figure out which one to ask first and how to go about asking it without causing offence or upsetting him like before. That had been her plan until he ruined it with his big mouth and charismatic persona. As his face illuminated, she knew she'd lost her chance.

"So, disappearances!" The Doctor broke out into a brisk stroll pulling Martha along with him as they caught up with Amara.

Amara flashed a grin despite the predicament she _knew_ they were walking right into, "This is like Miss Marple or something."

"Oh, we should go and meet Agatha Christie. Let's do that, that'd be great..." the Doctor agreed as a grin of his own crossed his face. He knew that when Martha left them, he and Amara would have to take that trip. "I'd love to do that. Agatha Christie. Solve a murder or two... no? Bit much?"

She laughed, "Just a bit."

Martha frowned as she allowed the topic to change, finding she didn't have much say in that matter, choosing to follow the Doctor's hasty strides. She didn't have much choice. She was creating an entire encyclopaedia of questions in her brain, knowing fully well that they would most likely remain unanswered.

"Herbert Hoover, thirty-first President of the USA, came to power a year ago," the Doctor began as they reached the park which was now decorated with an overrun campsite, tents erected with fires crackling, "Up till then New York was a boom town, the Roaring twenties, and then…"

"The Wall Street Crash, yeah?" Martha pressed, her eyes falling on Amara who nodded in agreement, "When was that... like, nineteen twenty-nine?"

"Yup," Amara sighed solemnly, glancing around the campsite with a frown, "Who economy was wiped out overnight... thousand of people ended up unemployed. Suddenly those huddled masses doubled in number and with nowhere to go they ended up here, in Central Park."

Martha's eyes widened suddenly, "What? They actually _live_ in the park? In the _middle_ of the city?" Glancing around, she blanched when she saw tents up tents set up throughout the entire space before them, small crowds huddled around fires as they entered Hooverville.

"Ordinary people," the Doctor sighed, watching them solemnly as they struggled, "Lost their jobs... couldn't pay the rent and they lost everything. There are places like this all over America."

Turning up the collar of her coat, Amara wrapped her coat around her form tightly, "You only come to Hooverville when there's nowhere else to go," She hated seeing people at their lowest, struggling to live in a place that was considered to be one of the greatest places on Earth. It wasn't right, and neither was it fair. " _"Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die.""_

Walking ahead a few more paces, the Doctor frowned when they were met the familiar clamour of shouting, continuing on until they saw two men bickering over something, "You thievin' lowlife!" an unfamiliar man exclaimed before punching the other, two bystanders rushing forwards to break them up, "Give me my loaf!"

"I didn't touch it!" the other man bellowed, recovering from the punch.

Rolling her eyes, Amara glowered at the bickering men as they fought over the bread. "Men and their bloody pride." She moved to push through the crowd, hoping to break them apart as well as the loaf until the Doctor yanked her back. "Ruining my fun?"

"We don't need any experts in diplomacy, 'Mara."

Amara sighed at the sight, wondering how things had gotten so bad. "This is what happens when there isn't any. And when diplomacy ends, war begins." she turned to look at the Doctor disapprovingly, "You know who said that? Adolf Hitler."

The Doctor sighed, knowing that her intentions were good, his grip on her arm growing more resolute, "Some things are best left unsaid." He couldn't have her interfering and putting them in a precarious position.

"Buzzkill." She murmured distastefully as an older black man strove forwards, pushing through the crowds as he made his way over to the feuding men, a motivated glance solidifying across his brow.

Furiously, he forced his way between the pair of them, shoving them apart, glancing between them, "Cut that out! _Right now!_ "

"He stole _my_ bread!" the first man accused, pointing a deadly finger at the man who was glowering at him in return.

"That's enough!" the older man bellowed, turning his gaze on the second man, "Did you take it?"

The second man looked at him helplessly, "I don't know what happened," he breathed, trying to defend himself, " _He_ just went crazy."

The first man lunged at him again, flying forwards to attempt something else, failing as he was held back. " _That's enough!_ " the older repeated, his tone dangerously, warning, "Now, think real careful before you lie to me."

The second man's eyes fell to the ground as he bowed his head, "I'm starvin', Soloman..."

The older man, presumably Soloman, held out his hand for the loaf of bread which the second man reluctantly withdrew from his coat, handing it over, "We're _all_ starvin'," he announced, breaking the bred in half, "We _all_ got families somewhere..." he handed the halves to both of the men, " _no_ stealin' and _no_ fightin'. You know the rules. Thirteen years ago I fought in the Great War. A lot of _us_ did, and the only reason we got through was because we stuck _together_! No matter how bad things get, we still act like human beings. It's _all_ we got."

Amara smiled at Soloman before looking to the Doctor, finding his rationality admirable, "And you said diplomacy was overrated."

"I never said that." He countered, sighing.

Amara smirked, tapping the side of her temple, "Noted and added to the list."

" _List?_ " the Doctor's brow furrowed in intrigue, "What list? Why do you have a list?"

"Stubborn, though mind you..." Amara trailed off in thought, tapping her chin in thought as Martha smile at her, "Petulant sounds better, more appropriate."

Rolling his eyes in faint amusement, the Doctor saw the men slowly move away, "Come on," he told the both of them, leading their small company over to Soloman, hoping to find out some information, "I suppose that makes you the boss around here..."

Looking up at the three of them, Soloman's eyes narrowed, "And, uh... who might _you_ be?" he asked, eyeing them all individually.

"He's the Doctor," Martha smiled as she introduced them, "I'm Martha. And that's Amara."

"Howdy," Amara grinned, holding out her hand in greeting, not missing the Doctor's smile at the favoured greeting phrase.

"Nice to meet you," Soloman shook her hand before eyeing the Doctor, moving towards a fire, "A doctor... well, we got, uh, stockbrokers, we got a lawyer, but you're the first doctor. Neighbourhood gets classier by the day," he spoke, holding his hands over the fire to warm them.

"How many people live here?" Martha pressed as she looked around the campsite, overwhelmed by the numbers.

"At any one time, hundreds... no place else to go. But I will say this about Hooverville. We are a truly equal society, black, white, all the same. _All_ starvin'," Soloman laughed to himself quietly, "So, all three of you are most welcome. But tell me, Doctor, you're a man of learning, right? Explain this to me..." he pointed over to where the Empire State Building stood under construction, "That there's going to be the tallest building in the world. How come they can do _that_ , and we got people starvin' in the _heart_ of Manhattan?"

Amara sighed, knowing that world was very much a cruel place, " _'It's a paradox that every dictator has climbed to power on the ladder of free speech. Immediately on attaining power each dictator has suppressed all free speech except his own.'_ " She recited solemnly, allowing another sigh to escape her lips, finding she was getting quite good at the quoting malarkey she had initiated with the Doctor as a form of entertainment.

Soloman regarded her for a moment with a bemused expression, "Who said that then, Miss?"

"Your current President."

"Ah, well..." Soloman scoffed in frustration, "Fat lot of good he's done. How can the President of this country allow them to build _that_ while people are strugglin' to make ends meet, while people are _starvin_ ', huh?"

Amara didn't have answer for his question, and the Doctor could see the pained expression crossing her face, conflicted. Sighing softly, he cleared his throat before speaking, "So... men are going missing," the Doctor started, holding up the newspaper from earlier, "Is this true?"

As his eyes found the newspaper, Soloman reached out and took the paper from him, brow furrowed, "It's true all right."

Turning away fro them, Soloman moved towards his tent, leaving them all standing there, "So... what does ' _missing_ ' actually mean?" Amara called after him, trailing after Soloman as she lingered in the entrance of the tent with the Doctor's head peaking in beside her. "Are we talking vanished? Dissipated? Abducted? There are so many definitions of ' _missing_ '..."

"Men must come and go here all the time," the Doctor added, "I doubt anyone's keeping a register."

Motioning for them to enter the tent, he sat down comfortably, "This is different," he affirmed sternly as Amara moved to sit opposite him, avidly intrigued by the situation.

"In what way?" Martha asked.

"Someone takes them at night, we _always_ hear something," Soloman told them, a terrified glint in his eyes, "Someone calls out for help, but by the time we get there, they're gone... like they vanish into thin air."

" _'Give light, and the darkness will disappear of itself_.'"

Soloman arched a brow at Amara, looking perplexed by he, "You talkin' poetry or somethin'? Does she always talk like this?" he looked over at the Doctor, not exactly sure what to make of the woman sat opposite him.

"It's either this or singing." Martha supplied as the Doctor snickered.

Amara's face fell at the insult, "Oi, there's nothing wrong with my singing."

"Whatever you say," Martha murmured under her breath although she secretly loved Amara's little spontaneous moments of gleeful cheer.

"And you're _sure_ someone's taking them?" the Doctor asked as a frown crossed his brows, finding it all hard to believe when there was so little to go on for affirmation.

"These people, _all these people_..." Amara looked over at the Doctor, "They've lost _everything_ which means they have _everything_ to lose. When you've got next to nothing... you hold on to what little you have. No matter what." She knew from her own experience that when a person reached their lowest point, they'd go everything to cling to what significance in their life remains. It was human nature, the nature of any being really.

"Exactly," Soloman nodded deeply, "Your knife, blanket... you take it with you, you don't leave bread uneaten, fire still burning..."

"Have you been to the police?" Martha frowned.

"Yeah, we tried that. Another deadbeat goes missing, big deal."

"So..." the Doctor gave a great sigh, "the question is, who's taking them and what for?" the Doctor concluded with a deep frown.

"Who or what..." Amara added as a dark look crossed the Doctor's face, not liking her suggestion because it was most likely true. People don't just _disappear_ for no reason at all.

"Soloman," a young man poked his head inside the tent, bags heavy under his eyes, looking exhausted, "Mr. Diagoras is here."

Giving a great sighed, Soloman stood to his feet before looking over at the man, "Thanks Frank," he told him gravely as the three of them exchanged a look, confused as to who Diagoras was. Pulling on his coat, he strode out with the trio trailing after him.

A crowd a swarmed a man, jet hair slicked back into place, dressed finely, hands securely in his pockets as a condescending look crossed his face. "I need men..." he started until Amara briskly cut him off.

"Odd name," she interjected, tilting her head as the man's eyes gradually found her, "Diagoras, was it?"

The man bristled, eyeing her carefully, "It's Italian."

"Hmm..." Amara nodded, finding that she was familiar with those who possessed ill-intent. She had been one of those people after all. " Or fake-talian, but if that's what you're going for, jolly good." She smiled as the Doctor pulled her back, almost tucking her behind him.

"What did you say?" Diagoras glowered at her.

"Sorry, my mouth runs away without me sometimes."

"As I was saying, I need men," Diagoras continued, looking around at the small group of men, "Volunteers... I got a little work for you and you sure look like you can use the money."

"Yeah," the man who had come into the tent stepped forward, interested. "What is the money?"

"A dollar a day."

The men erupted into moans of annoyance, grumbling until Soloman's voice called over the group, silencing them entirely, "What's the work?" he asked.

"A little trip down the sewers. Got a tunnel that collapsed needs clearing and fixing. Any takers?"

"A dollar a day? That's slave wage."

Amara stared at him, her gaze hardened with concern, "Men don't always come back up, do they?"

"Accidents happen," Diagoras brushed her off simply which infuriated her more.

"What do you mean by " _accidents_ "?" She interjected with a furrowed brow, determined for answer she knew she wouldn't get.

"What sort of accidents?" the Doctor prompted.

"You don't need the work?" Diagoras glowered at the pair of them, "That's fine, anybody else?" he sucked in a sharp breath when Amara raised her hand into the air, smiling. "Enough with the questions. This isn't a discussion for women, know your place."

Seething slightly, Amara clenched her jaw in frustration, seeing Martha grow rigid beside her, "Is that because you're starting to feel emasculated? I don't recall castrating anyone," She smiled again, clearing her throat as her hand remained settled in the air, "Anyway, I'm volunteering."

"Yeah, make that two." The Doctor stepped up beside her, raising his hand into the air with a cheeky grin. "I'm volunteering as well."

Eyeing the pair of them, Martha knew she didn't have much of a say seeing as they'd blatantly decided for her, "I'll kill you both for this," she hissed under her breath, raising her hand along with Soloman and the young man from the tent.

* * *

Dismal. Damp. Drab. Desolate. Dingy. The sewers simmered just below them, lurking down the depths of the ladder, the dense air clinging in the air. Such venture didn't seem the worth. "... turn left," Diagoras was instructing, "Go about half a mile, follow tunnel two-seven-three... fall's right ahead of you. You _can't_ miss it."

Frank, who seemed only interested in the money, piped up: "And when do we get our dollar?"

"When you come back up."

The Doctor's head snapped up, "And if we _don't_ come back up?" he quizzed, tilting his head in intrigue.

Diagoras smirked, "Then I got no one to pay."

"How convenient for you." Amara mused, gritting her teeth in frustration.

"We'll be back," Solomon vowed.

Martha sighed, "Let's hope so," she added, sending the Doctor and Amara forceful look.

Dagorias sighed, his eyes falling upon Amara where they stayed, "If you do happen to return, I get you your money and I'll teach _this_ one a lesson in obedience while I'm at it."

Amara clenched her jaw, "I'll look forward to it." She ground out as Diagoras retreated from them, moving away to leave them all gathered around the entrance to the sewers.

"You shouldn't antagonise him, 'Mara." The Doctor warned, his hand falling on the small of her back as he ushered her down.

Amara smirked, "Perhaps you should put me on a lead, then."

"If only," he chuckled, following her down into the sewer.

"I don't think we'll be seeing him again."

"We just gotta stick together," Frank assured Martha sternly, who didn't look at all comfortable about having been goaded in following them, as they caught up to them. "It's easy to get lost; it's like a huge rabbit warren, you could hide an army down here."

"So what about you, Frank?" Martha questioned, wanting to desperately change the subject, "You're not from around these parts, are you?" she wondered, eyeing Amara as she sped ahead.

"Oh, you could talk," Frank chuckled lightly, "No, no, I'm from Tennessee, born and bred."

"So..." Martha smiled, "how come you're here?"

"Uh... my daddy died," he stumbled over his words for a moment, "Mama couldn't afford to feed us all. So, I'm the oldest, up to me to feed myself, so put on put on my coat, hitched up here on the railroads. There's a whole lot of runaways in camp younger than me. From all over...Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas…Solomon keeps a lookout for us." Frank smiled broadly, "So, what about you? You're a long way from home."

"Yeah, I'm just a hitcher too."

Frank grinned at her, "You stick with me, you'll be alright."

"So, the chauvinist..." Amara interjected, feeling bile rise in the pit of her stomach, "who is this Diagoras bloke anyway?"

She glanced over her shoulder at Soloman, who merely sighed, "A couple of months ago, he was just another foreman," he told her softly, falling into a step pace beside Amara, "Now it seems like he's running most of Manhattan."

"How did he manage that, then?" the Doctor asked.

"These are strange times. A man can go from being King of the Hill to the lowest of the low overnight. It's just for some folks it works the other way 'round."

"Ka-chow!" Amara beamed, pulling the Doctor back before he stepped on a blob clumped on the floor, giving off a faint green glow, "Look at this beautiful thing!" she crouched beside it, using her torch as she inspected it. She hadn't seen anything like that since...

"Do you often fawn over..." Martha gagged as the smell met her nose, revolting and grotesque, causing the woman to cover her mouth and nose.

Amara smiled as the Doctor knelt beside her, "Fawn over composite organic matter? No, not usually."

"Is that radioactive or something?" Martha called out through her hand, inching forwards. "It's gone off, whatever it is," the Doctor pulled on his glass, ignoring Amara's snort, and picked up the blob to Martha's disgust, "And you've just got to pick it up."

"It's better than poking it," Amara commented, recalling how she'd witnessed countless poke rather than touch... matter, dead animals, dead humans...

Leaning forward, the Doctor sniffed it before holding it towards Amara, "Shine your torch through it."

"It looks like a Composite organic matter," Amara shone the torch through it, frowning as the Doctor smiled at her, "Martha, you're a doctor right? Medical opinion, doctor Jones?"

"It's not human," Martha frowned at the blob in the Doctor's hands, "I know that."

"No, it's not," the Doctor affirmed, noticing the shared exchange of puzzlement from Soloman and Frank, "And I'll tell you something else. We must be at least half a mile in and I don't see any sign of a collapse, do you?"

"So why did Diagoras send us down here?" Amara pressed, taking the blob from the Doctor so he could look at it, her intrigue getting the better of her. It didn't feel right, something was off...

"So, where are we now?" Martha frowned, looking above at the tunnel, "What's above us?"

"Well… we're right underneath Manhattan."

Her fingertips danced along the body of the matter, investigating it through touch as she tried to place why she felt odd. It wasn't like anything else she'd ever encountered, and she was familiar with Composite organic matter. She couldn't place it.

"Why are you touching it?" Martha blanched at the sight of the blob, hardly able to believe that Amara was fiddling with it voluntarily.

Amara smiled, diving into her pockets as she pulled out a crumple piece of tissue, reaching around for an overused pencil, "It's intriguing."

Martha eyed her curiously, "How did you know what it was back there? How do you _always_ know?"

"It doesn't matter." She brushed her off as she tucked the tissue inside the blob.

"Yes, it does," Martha argued, tired of being lied when she knew there was more to Amara than she'd told her or the Doctor, "It matters because I want to know how you know everything..."

Amara sighed, "I'll tell you when the time's right."

Martha scoffed, hardly believing that to be true, "Yeah, well... when will that _ever_ happen?" She couldn't see herself ever finding out the truth about Amara, and she could accept that... it was just frustrating to know that she didn't want to tell her.

"When he's compromised. He can't know," Martha's eyes widened at her words before she nodded, "I think... oh _, hello_." Amara's brow furrowed as she continued to manipulate the blob between her hands, under her fingers, "It's artificial, I thought it felt odd. Genetically engineered..."

"By what though?" Martha grimaced, not wanting to know the answer to her question.

Amara shrugged, "No idea."

"Aren't you going to tell him?"

Grinning at Martha, she shook her head softly, "And let him miss the opportunity to create some contraption to insect it with? Never."

"We're way beyond half a mile," Soloman called out as they continued further into the tunnel, "There's no collapse, nothing."

"That Diagoras bloke, was he lying?" Martha frowned.

"Undoubtedly."

Frank scratched the back of his head, confused, "So why did he want people to come down here?"

"Soloman, I think it's time you took these three back," the Doctor nodded over at Frank, Martha, and Amara, "I'll be much quicker of my own..." he trailed off when Amara pushed past him, pressing the blob in his hands, "'Mara, what- "

"Shh..." Amara held up her hand, frowning as she closed her eyes, listening until a squealing noise echoed through the tunnels, spurring her to walk on.

"'Mara, wait..." the Doctor tried to pull her back, not wanting her to wander off into the darkness and risk losing her.

"When you've been a prisoner," Amara sighed, trying to listen out for the noise again, "You learn to live in darkness."

The Doctor's face fell as Soloman marched forward, "What the hell was that?" he demanded, glancing around frantically.

"Hello?!" Frank called out.

"Shh!" Martha hissed, nudging him to be quiet.

"Frank," Soloman chided.

"Frank, probably best not to do that." Amara warned over her shoulder.

"What if it's one of the folk gone missing?" Frank challenged, not ready to give up, "You'd be scared, half-mad down here on your own."

"Do you think they're still alive?" the Doctor asked, eyeing him for a moment.

"Heck, we ain't seen no bodies down here... maybe they just got lost."

"Maybe," Amara turned around, still trying to pinpoint the source of the noise.

"I know I never heard nobody make a sound like that," Solomon frowned.

The squealing echoed again, the Doctor moving away as Amara moved back towards the group, inching off into another direction. "Sounds like there's more than one of 'em," Frank spoke, watching Amara as she continued to move away.

"This way," the Doctor called, moving down another tunnel.

"No, that way," Solomon argued, pointing his torch to where Amara had wandered down another tunnel, the light catching two forms, Amara's and something else huddle on the ground.

"Doctor..." Martha called, "'Mara, come back!"

The Doctor rejoined the group, frowning when he saw Amara approached whatever it was.

"Who are you?" Solomon called as Amara drew closer.

"Are you lost?" Frank called out when Soloman's didn't get a reply, "Can you understand me? I've been thinkin' about folk lost…" he made to follow Amara but she forced him back to stand with the others.

"It's all right, Frank," the Doctor set a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Just stay back, and let us have a look." He walked towards the figure, catching up with Amara who had paused in her movement, "He's got a point, though, my mate Frank. I'd hate to be stuck down here on my own..."

Amara smiled sadly at the figure, "We know the way out, to daylight... if you want to come with us," she neared the figure as the Doctor moved his torch to reveal a man with a pig's face.

"Oh, but what are you?" the Doctor breathed in marvel, awed at the sight before him.

"Is, uh... that some kind of carnival mask?" Solomon asked, swallowing hard as he started to lose his nerve.

"No, it's real," Amara spoke, reaching out to place a hand on its shoulder, her fingers flinching when she felt the multitude of its shaking, how terrified it was... She winced, knowing that this was unlike any alien she'd ever seen. A human, she was certain it had once been a human, forced into whatever it was now... "I'm sorry..."

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath, "Now listen to me," the Doctor said, knowing that it had been a human, a human that had been experimented on, "I promise I can help. Now, who did this to you?"

"Doctor, Anna…" Martha called out, her gaze widening, "I _think_ you'd better get back here," Martha warned as more pig men entered through the opposite end of the tunnel, " _Doctor!_ "

Straightening, the Doctor grew rigid when he saw the men nearing them, "Actually..." he pulled Amara up with him, holding her tightly before pushing her behind him, "Good point," he back them away towards the others, noticing the pig men following their movements.

"They're following you."

"Yeah, noticed that, thanks," the Doctor breathed, "Well then, Martha, 'Mara, Frank, Solomon…"

"What?"

"Um, basically… run!" he exclaimed, grabbing Amara's hand as they flew past the others, bolting down the tunnel ahead, turning sharply down others in a frenzy to lose the squealing behind them until they came to a cross section of tunnels.

"Where are we going?" Martha skidded to a halt, glancing around, frowning frantically.

Looking around them, Amara yanked the Doctor's arm, "This way!" she shouted, turning a sharp right when a ladder appeared as the pig men continued to chase after them.

"There's a ladder!" the Doctor exclaimed, clambering up it and using his sonic on the lid, throwing it open as he climbed through, helping up Martha as Soloman hesitated, his eyes widening when he couldn't see Amara. "'Mara!"

"Frank, you can't fight them off!" Amara called as Frank moved to pick up a metal bar to hold the pig men off. "Frank!"

"Frank!" Solomon called as he climbed up the ladder, "Amara, c'mon!

Frank looked up at the ladder then glanced back at Amara as she pushed him along, "Frank, go! Go!" Reluctantly, Frank started up the ladder as Amara turned around to see the onslaught of Pig Men approaching.

Once Soloman was up the ladder, he reached down and held a hand out for Frank, "C'mon, Frank! C'mon!"

"I've got ya," the Doctor called out, "C'mon!"

Clenching her jaw, Amara's brain grew unhinged as they neared them. Frank had to get up the ladder, ad she had to buy him some time... Stumbling slightly, she tilted her head as her breathing grow shallow. "Frank, you've got to move faster!"

Wincing, she felt her mind shift suddenly. _There wasn't much choice..._ she couldn't take out all of them. Feeling hands seize her arms, squealing erupted into the air as the hands disappeared for a few moments until they reclaimed her arms, more pairs, as they swarmed the bottom of the ladder.

"Frank, I'm sorry!" Amara called out as Frank was grabbed, pulling him back down into the sewer. "Oi, don't get handy with me!" a blue electrical pulse rippled from her hands, shocking the pig men as they continued to swarm around them, blocking their escape.

"Frank!" Solomon cried.

"'Mara!" the Doctor exclaimed, hearing her northern accent growing more distant down the sewer, "No! Amara!" he moved to head back down until Solomon pushed him aside and closed the lid to the sewer on the pig men climbing up. "'Mara!

"We _can't_ go after them."

"We gotta go _back_ down!" the Doctor exclaimed in outrage, "We can't just leave them _alone_ down there!"

"No, I'm _not_ losing anybody else!" Soloman warned him, "Those creatures were from Hell! _From Hell itself!_ If we go after them, they'll take us all! There's nothing we can do. I'm sorry."

He looked up at Soloman, maddened like a frenzy, "I _can't_ just leave her!"

"Alright then!" a showgirl called, jumping out from behind a shelf with a gun poised in her hands, "Put 'em up!" Martha's hands immediately shot into the air, "Hands in the air and no funny business," she cried out as the Doctor and Soloman put their hands up in the air, staring at the cocked gun. "Now tell me, you schmucks, what've you done with Laszlo?"

Martha frowned, "Uh, who's Laszlo?" she asked, lowering her arms in confusion.

Disappointed, the woman sagged into a seat with the gun still aimed at them, "Laszlo's my _boyfriend_ , or _was_ my boyfriend until two weeks ago. No letter, no goodbye, no _nothin'_. And I'm not stupid," as he talked, she waved the gun around as the Doctor stiffened, "I know some guys are just pigs but _not_ my Lazlo. I mean, what kinda guy asks you to meet his mother before he vamooses?"

"It might..." the Doctor eyed the gun, nodding to it, uncomfortable, "might just help if you put that down."

"Huh?" the showgirl glanced down and realised she was still holding it, smiling sheepishly, "Oh, sure," she tossed it lazily onto a chair nearby, "Oh, c'mon. It's not real, it's just a prop... it was either that or a spear."

"What do you think happened to Laszlo?" Martha asked the woman.

"I wish I knew," she sighed solemnly, "One minute he's there, the next, zip, vanished."

The Doctor could feel his panic rising within his chest, guilt flooding through him as he knew Amara had sacrificed her safety to ensure his and Martha's. Again. "Listen, ah, what's your name?"

"Tallulah."

"Tallulah..." he began until she cut him off soundlessly.

"Three Ls and an H."

"Right," he nodded slowly, "Um, we can try to find Laszlo, but he's not the only one. More people are disappearing every night; we _need_ to find our friend 'Mara, she was taken protecting us."

"And there are creatures," Solomon's voice shook, "Such creatures."

Tallulah eyed them curiously, "Whadda ya mean _'creatures?'_ "

"Look," the Doctor interject, feeling his anxiety finally getting the better of him, "Listen, just trust me. Everyone is in danger. I need to find out exactly what this is," he withdrew the blob from his pocket and held it up in all its glory, "Because then I'll know exactly what we're fighting."

"Yech!" Tallulah exclaimed leaning away in disgust.

Frowning, the Doctor noticed a torn tissue lying on the floor beneath where he held the blob. Bending, he stopped to pick it up, smiling when he saw the cursive writing of: _DNA scanner_. Even in her absence, she was still brilliant.

* * *

Frank struggled as they were dragged along, resisting the hands of the pig men until he saw Amara, silent and willingly being shoved, "Where are they taking us?" he murmured, eyeing her as he tried to figure out why she was so calm.

"I wish I knew," Amara let out through a sigh, "Probably to someone in authority."

Weakening his resolve, Frank frowned, wondering why she had willingly given herself up to them, he couldn't make it out. "Why did you do that?" Frank asked her, recalling how she'd put his safety before hers, wanting him to leave her behind while she sacrificed herself.

"Do what?" Amara kept her gaze ahead of her, firm and unwavering. She knew she'd been seen by Frank, that he'd definitely seen something she'd been trying to hide for so very long. She'd let Frank, a human, she her darkest secret. A frail mistake.

Frank cleared his throat, leaning towards her, "Sacrifice yourself... I've never seen anyone be that brave before, and I've been around loads of men." he admitted, though he was slightly in awe of her. Though when he saw her eyes flicker, a glower of blue appear out of her sockets. It seemed inhuman.

"I'm a martyr, an extinct species." Amara smiled slightly, looking over at Frank, "I'd rather go down with a fight."

Frank let out a shaky breath as he was pushed roughly by a pig man, causing him to stumble slightly, "D'you reckon we're gonna die?"

"I think it's best to expect an early death. I find it keeps me on my toes that way."

Frank, slightly unnerved, didn't know what to make of her words. He'd never met anyone like her or the Doctor before, and it was a good-bad meeting. "Is that a yes?" Frank was entirely sure what she meant. She was overly odd.

Patting his shoulder, Amara sighed, "Frank, we're going to be fine."

"I saw what happened, by the way." Frank told her suddenly, causing Amara's head to snap back to look at him again, worry sparking within her eyes. A subtle glint of anxiety.

She frowned, glowering when they were shoved by the pig men "What did you see?"

Fran gestured to his own eyes with a wave of his hand, "Your eyes went blue. You have green eyes... but they glowed blue. I saw electric leave your hands like a bolt of lightning. You shocked 'em. Are you like 'em?" he nodded to the pig men and she chuckled silently, "An alien or somethin'?"

Amara considered his words, tilting her head, "The tale is thrilling..."

Frank's mouth fell agape in slow realisation at her confession. She was an alien! An alien! _An alien!_ He just needed to know that how an alien would be able to help him out of situation such as the one they'd both been landed in.

* * *

Rooting through the prop room, the Doctor searched for parts frantically until Soloman, thankfully, approached him with a radio in his hand, "How about this? I found it backstage?"

"Perfect," the Doctor took it from him and forced open the back anxiously, "It's the capacitors I need," he frowned, trying to pry it apart, "I'm just rigging up a crude little DNA scanner for this beastie," he nodded over to the blob, "If we can get a chromosomal reading, I'll find out where it's from," the Doctor explained, pointing his sonic screwdriver at the radio's compartment.

"How about you, Doctor?" Solomon pressed, eyeing him suspiciously, "Where are you from? I've been all over. I've never heard anybody talk like you or that girl of yours. Just exactly _who_ are you?"

"Oh, I'm just sort of passing by," he replied, frowning in thought as he replayed his words over in his head. "What girl?" the Doctor asked carefully, intrigued.

Soloman smiled slightly, "Your 'Mara."

Staring at the man, he took out a piece of the radio and blew on it, "Oh, um... we're not, she's not mine... I don't know own her if that's... we're not together." He stumbled over his words, feeling himself growing red in the face.

"I'm not a fool, Doctor," Solomon countered and the Doctor wasn't entirely sure if he was referring to Amara or about the passing by thing.

"No," the Doctor look up and sighed, "Sorry."

Sighing to himself, Soloman's eyes trailed over to the sewer's entrance, "I was so scared, Doctor... I _let_ them take Frank and your woman 'cos I was just _too_ scared." He shook his head, ashamed of his actions before managing to compose himself, "I gotta get back to Hooverville, With these creatures on the loose, we gotta protect ourselves. Ain't _no one_ else gonna help us."

"Good luck," the Doctor told him, wincing when he'd called Amara his _'woman_ '.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," he gave him a firm nod, "For all our sakes."

As Soloman left him to his solitude, he couldn't help but wonder why he'd thought he and Amara were together, like as a couple he'd assumed. Was that the way they came off? Was that why Shakespeare had backed off eventually?

He should never have let go of her hand; he should have forced her up the ladder before him, so she was safe. He couldn't believe the guilt plaguing him, knowing that Amara was alone down in the sewers with Frank, facing the unknown.

Fiddling with some wires, he finally managed to rig the blob to his makeshift scanner. What he wanted to know was how Amara had known how to examine it... they hadn't even discussed it. _How had she known?_ Shifting a beam of light, he settled it on the blob, "That's it," he muttered to himself, pulling on his specs, "Let's warm you up."

Waiting, he allowed his mind to drift again. He'd been flirting with her, he knew that. But it was banter as well, harmless and playful. It didn't mean anything. He'd allowed himself to love Rose and that was where his heart belonged.

Glancing down, his eyes widened when he saw a reader on the scanner, "It's artificial," he murmured in confusion. "Genetically engineered," he smirked to himself, bemused by the blob's existence. "Whoever this is, _oh_ , you're clever."

The Doctor reached out and put his stethoscope on the blob, listening, "Fundamental DNA type four-six-seven-nine-eight-nine," he blinked, frowning as he pulled off his glasses, trying to place the reading, "nine-eight-nine… hold on, that means the planet of origin..." the Doctor looked up in disbelief as his hearts stopped within his chest, "Skaro!"

Bolting from his seat, he took off running, rushing to find Martha to tell how they _desperately_ needed to find Amara before it was too late. He wouldn't lose anyone else to the Daleks.

Rushing through backstage, he dodged through confused chaos as showgirls ran about him in a frenzied panic, holding each other as they spoke in hushed whispered about a strange creature they'd seen at the side of the stage.

He couldn't see Martha. His hysteria worsened when his eyes found Tallulah in the crowd, "Where is she?" the Doctor demanded as he reached her, "Where's Martha?"

"I don't know," Tallulah admitted with a frown, "She ran off the stage."

Suddenly a scream erupted to draw his attention, spurring him to run off in the direction from where it had sounded, racing back to the prop room, Tallulah on his heels, to see it clear. No one was there.

"Martha!" he screamed, rushing into the room, glancing around it frantically, "Martha!" he looked down to find the sewer entrance opened. Grimacing, he grabbed his coat and pulled it on furiously.

"Oh, where are you goin'?" Tallulah frowned at him.

The Doctor shook his head, "They've taken _them_."

Tallulah sighed, "Who's taken them?"

"Martha and 'Mara."

"Who's 'Mara?" Tallulah pressed when she heard the new name, smiling despite the circumstance, "Ya girl or somethin'?" He didn't answer and instead, began to climb down into the sewer for the second time that night. "What're y' doin'? I said, what the hell are ya doin'? Crazy guy..." Glancing around her, she eyed a long coat to cover her costume before following him down.

"No, no, no, no, no way," the Doctor shook his head profusely when he saw her descending the ladder, "You're _not_ coming."

"Tell me what's going on."

"There's _nothing_ you can do," the Doctor mumbled in frustration, "Go back."

"Look, whoever's taken Martha, they could've taken Laszlo, couldn't they? If that's the case, they've got my man, and they've got your girl."

He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to correct her. Having to drag her along would only slow him down, and he didn't have time to waste. "Tallulah, you're not safe down here."

"Then that's _my_ problem. Come on..." Tallulah started to walk down a tunnel to her left, "Which way?"

Sighing in defeat, he started down an opposite tunnel, "This way," he called to the showgirl, who turned and followed him with the clicking of her heels echoing through the sewer's labyrinth.

* * *

"No!" Martha screamed, struggled as she was dragged through endless tunnels by pig men, limbs flaying about disgracefully, "Let me go!"

She was forced against a wall as more pig men entered with several other humans, two of whom she recognised, her hearts lifting at the sight. "Frank!" Martha called, spotting to tall man, her eyes shifting until they fell upon Amara, "'Mara!"

Fran smiled immediately, pushing his way over to her, "Martha!"

"You're alive!" Martha hugged him briefly before throwing her arms around Amara, hugging her tautly. "You're all right... I thought we'd lost you," Martha mumbled before they were forced apart to keep them moving along.

"Hold your horses!" Amara glowered, shrugging off the hands, "We're moving."

"Where are they taking us?" Martha asked in a low voice as Frank shrugged.

"We don't know," Amara shook her head, she and Frank had come to a loose end trying to figure that one out for themselves. "But we can find out what's going on down here." Honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Shuffling along in silence, Amara could only imagine that what they were to meet would be the worse imaginable. Suddenly the pig men froze and ceased pushing them about, they merely stood there waiting, in a random section of the tunnels.

"What are they keeping us here for?" Frank glanced around.

Amara clenched her jaw, "One does wonder."

"I've just got a nasty feeling that we're being kept in the larder," Martha remarked softly

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

* * *

"When you say _"They've taken them",_ who's they exactly?" Tallulah asked as they wandered through the tunnels, gibbering away as the Doctor's anxiety intensified. "And who are you anyway? I never asked."

"Shh." the Doctor hissed through gritted teeth, wishing he'd just left her behind.

Tallulah rolled her eyes, "Okay. Okay."

"Shh... shh, shh." he hissed again when his eyes caught the weak shadow of a Dalek approaching from the tunnel in front of them, his hearts stopping. _It couldn't be..._

"I mean you're handsome and all..."

The Doctor quickly pressed his hands over her mouth, pulling her back down the tunnel as they ducked into a recess, holding her in place as a Dalek glided by them.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no..." he shook his head profusely, stepping out of the recess to stare after the Dalek as it eventually disappeared from sight, gritting his teeth as he seethed. "They survived... they always survive while I lose everything," he ground out, glancing around them in frustration, "And they're out there somewhere..."

The Doctor moved to rush in the direction the Dalek had disappeared into, wandering if it would lead him to Martha and Amara until Tallulah pulled him back, "That metal thing? What was it?"

"It's called a Dalek," he pulled his arm free and began stalking down the tunnel, leaving Tallulah no choice but to follow him rather than being stranded by herself. "And it's not just metal, it's alive."

Tallulah snorted in disbelief, "You're kidding me."

"Does it _look_ like I'm kidding?" the Doctor turned to face her, a glower crossing his face as she immediately sobered, falling silent at the fury lurking within his eyes, "Inside that shell is a creature born to hate, whose only thought is to destroy everything and everyone that isn't a Dalek too. It _won't_ stop until it's killed every human being alive, and my friends are lost." he stalked off once again, allowing his fury to lead him

"But if it's not a human being, that kinda implies it's from outer space." Tallulah spoke, finding it all hard to believe until he threw her a look over his shoulder as he stalked along, "Yet again, that's a "no" with the kidding. Boy..." she trailed off, struggling to find the words, "Well, what's it doin' here, in New York?"

Sighing, the Doctor didn't bother to look back her and waste more valuable time explaining something would she never understand. Storming down the tunnel, the Doctor left Tallulah struggling to keep up with as the man looked as though he could murder someone. Teeth bared, fists clenched, shoulders hunched. Tallulah found herself scared of the once smiley man.

Just having turned the corner, they came face-to-face with a pig man who looked different compared to those the Doctor had seen, having more hair and human-like features. Tallulah screamed at the sight of him, causing the pig man to jolt and try to flee but the Doctor wasn't about the let that happen. Grabbing the back of his uniform, the Doctor yanking the feeling pig man back and forcing him against a wall, knocking the wind out of him as he did so. "Where is _she_? Where are they?" he demanded, catching himself as he leaned towards the pig man, glowering at him. "What have you done with her?" his grip tightened as the pig man tried to jerk away, "What have you done with them?"

"I didn't take her," the pig man bit out. "Either of them."

The Doctor paused, surprised that he was capable of speech, causing his grip around the pig man's neck to loosen at the revelation as he freed himself, though he didn't move to run off. "Can you remember your name?" he hoped that since he was mentally competent enough for speech, he _hoped_ he could tell him where Martha and 'Mara had been taken.

"Don't look at me..." he tried to flee, flinching when Tallulah stepped towards him slightly, causing him to cower.

Eyeing him curiously, Tallulah inched closer still, "Do you know where they are? Where his girl is?"

"She's not _my_ girl."

"Stay back!" the pig man cried out, continuing to shy away, "Don't look at me!"

Eyes narrowed, the Doctor surveyed the pig man before him, seeing the fear shining within his human eyes, "What happened to you?" he asked softly.

"They made me a monster," he bit out.

The Doctor frowned, "Who did?"

"The masters."

"The Daleks," the Doctor seethed, jaw clenching, "Why?"

"They needed slaves... they needed slaves to steal more people so they created us. Part animal, part human... I escaped before they got my mind, but it was still too late."

"Do you know what happened to Martha? To Amara? Where is _she_?"

"They took 'em, it's my fault," he sighed in remorse, looking guilty for had happened, looking down. "She was, uh, your friend was following me."

Tallulah thought for a moment, "Were you in the theatre?"

The pig man gave a brie nod, "Yes."

" _Why?_ " Tallulah pressed, frowning in confusion, "Why were you there?"

"I _never_ wanted you to see me like this."

" _Why me?_ " she asked, shaking her head in perplexity, not understanding why he thought she was so important. "What do I gotta do with this? Were you following me? Is that why you were there?"

"Yes." the pig man turned towards her.

"Who are you?"

The pig man sighed, "I was lonely."

"Who are you?"

"I _needed_ to see you." he told her firmly, shyly.

" _Who are you?_ " Tallulah demanded, feeling fear rise within her as she thought the man seemed very familiar, as though they'd already met before, that they knew each other well...

The pig man turned away as he murmured, "I'm sorry."

"No, wait," Tallulah suddenly grabbed his arm, tugging him back to face her, "Let me look at you." she pulled him under a faint beam of light, staring at him carefully for a moment until her face fell in shock, "Laszlo?" she asked, unsure as the pig man nodded, " _My_ Laszlo?" Tallulah gasped, her voice breaking, "Oh, what have they _done_ to you?"

"I'm sorry... s _o sorry_."

Knowing it was undoubtedly insensitive, the Doctor cut in: "Laszlo, can you show me where they are?" he _needed_ to make sure they were fine. He had tried to let them have their reunion, have their little moment but he couldn't just stand aside while Martha and Amara were in danger, very much like they had been in New New York. He'd sworn to protect them, and somehow, they'd been taken from him again.

Laszlo shook his head, reluctant to do so, "They'll kill you."

"I will not stand idly aside while they kill my friends," he told him firmly, vowing to himself that he would stop at nothing until they were both safe again, "If I don't stop them, they'll kill everyone."

Laszlo sighed, his shoulders drooping before he turned: "Then follow me."

* * *

Being led further into the tunnels, Amara knew that nothing good could come of whatever they were being led to. Pig slaves and the unknown. A recipe for disaster. Letting out a frustration sigh, she stared at the pig men began to squeal which make her worry resurface once more.

"What're they doing?" Frank's head snapped around him, frowning in confusion, "What's wrong? What is it?"

Amara went to reply until a Dalek glided around the corner, sweeping the words from her mouth in shock. Sucking in a sharp breath, she bit her lip, "Daleks," she hissed, her hand seizing Martha's arm as she fought to contain her anger. She couldn't afford to slip up.

Startled, Martha glanced at the hand on her arm before looking over at Amara, seeing her gaze fixed on the robot-with-wheels as it glided by them, a look that would be enough to haunt someone. Her eyes were wide with a dormant pain she'd never seen before. Though she recognised the look, it was one she'd seen on the face of the Doctor plenty of times.

"'Mara, you all right?" Martha whispered to her, concerned.

Before Amara could even think of forming an answer, the Dalek turned to them, its high pitched voice filling the air which caused Amara's eyes to widened. "Silence, you will answer with _silence._ "

"No..." she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief, refusing to believe it to be true... not after everything. Not now. The Dalek before her was Jast, a member of the last Cult of Skaro... which meant that Caan was somewhere, along with Sec.

"What the hell is that?" Martha looked over at Amara who clearly recognised whatever it was, petrified by the mere sight of it.

"You will form a line," Dalek Jast commanded as the pig men immediately moved to push them all until a clear line was formed, "Move."

"'Mara, what is it?" Martha tried again, her growing increasing the more silent Amara grew, "What is that thing?"

"It's a Dalek," Amara swallowed thickly, "Inside that shell lives a creature born to destroy everything that isn't a Dalek... it won't stop, it _never_ stops..."

Martha gulped at her words, before glancing around them to see several men resisting the pig men, "Just do what it says, everyone," she tried, knowing that Amara was speaking the truth. She didn't want anyone dying. "Okay... just obey."

"The female is wise... Obey!" At Jast's commands, another Dalek rounded the corner as Amara's eyes widened still. How was it possible? She had been sure that, if what she'd learnt of the Doctor, he'd sent them all into the Void.

"Report," the second Dalek commanded Jast.

Amara's eyes narrowed at the pair, determining the second one to be Caan as her eyes went to Jast again. "These are strong specimens," Jast asserted, "They will help the Dalek cause.

Hearing the familiar new word, Martha's head snapped to Amara, "How the hell did you know that?"

She growing sick and tired of the deception Amara was keeping up. She'd admitting to keeping secrets but this was ridiculous. It was driving Martha mad with not knowing how she knew so much about _so much_. It was infuriating.

Amara couldn't reply to Martha's questions, she could spare time answering them, not when the Daleks posed such a threat. "What is the status of the Final Experiment?" Jast's voice drew her attention again.

"Final Experiment?" Amara repeated with a frown as something caught her eye.

Surprisingly, she just barely managed to spot the Doctor poking his head around the nearest corner before tucking himself away again, hidden from sight. She'd known he'd never let them go so easily, knowing he would try to find them... with a showgirl and competent pig man for company.

"The Dalekanium is in place," Caan explained shortly, "The energy conductor is now complete."

"Then I will extract prisoners for selection," Jast replied before turning to face the line formed by the pig men, extending its plunder arm towards a man's face as he was pushed forward, scanning him. "Intelligence scan. Initiate. Reading brain waves. Low intelligence."

"You calling me stupid?" the man demanded.

"This one will become a pig slave," Jast explained as the man was dragged away by pig men, Jast moving along onto the next man, "Intelligence scan. Initiate."

From where they stood huddled behind a corner, the Doctor peered out to see another being scanned by the Dalek, "They're divided into two groups: high intelligence and low intelligence. The low intelligence are taken to become pig slaves like me." Laszlo explained grimly as the Doctor sighed at the echo of " _superior intelligence_ ".

Tallulah frowned at his words, "Well, that's not fair."

"Shh," the Doctor called over his shoulder as his eyes fell upon Amara. He could see Martha's hand wrapped tightly around her arm, his companion tucked behind her as she eyed the Daleks.

"You're the smartest guy I ever dated," Tallulah told Laszlo in a whisper.

"And the others?" the Doctor asked Laszlo, allowing his worry to slowly get the better of him.

"They're taken to the laboratory." Laszlo told him.

"But why? What for?"

"I don't know," Laszlo frowned for a moment, thinking as he tried to recall what he'd heard, "The masters only call it the Final... Experiment."

"Super intelligence," Jast called after completing the scan on Frank, moving onto Martha who gripped Amara's hand tighter. "Intelligence scan. Initiate... Superior intelligence."

"Intelligence scan. Initiate..." Jast finally turned to Amara as she stared down the eyestalk of the greatest enemy of her people, altering her physiology so that her hearts became synchronised enough to beat as one, hopefully effective enough to fool it into thinking she was human. "Prime intelligence," Jast replied after completing the scan.

Amara, somewhat relieved, was grateful only brainwave activity had been scanned, knowing that if they had pursued to complete scans involving DNA, not even the Perception Filter would be able to save her. Thankfully, the Daleks seemed to be struggling for power.

"This one will become part of the Final Experiment."

"You can't just experiment on people!" Martha resisted, struggling against the pig slaves, "It's insane! It's inhuman!"

"You forget yourself, Martha," Amara breathed, "They're not human."

"Correct," Jast replied, "Prisoners of high intelligence will be taken to the Transgenetic laboratory."

Amara tensed up at the order, her eyes widened when she realised what the Cult of Skaro had planned... the Daleks were experimenting with human DNA... she didn't have much time to think on it as she was pushed along by the pig men, having been separated into groups, pushed and shoved down the tunnel.

"Look out, they're moving," the Doctor pressed himself flat against the wall as Lasszlo pulled Tallulah back, away from sight. He only had to wait until the Daleks were gone.

"Doctor," Laszlo called, pushing Tallulah towards another tunnel, ready to run, "Doctor, quickly!"

"I'm not going," the Doctor argued sternly, "I've got an idea, you go."

"Laszlo, c'mon!" Tallulah yanked Laszlo's arm, trying to lead him away.

Laszlo sighed, "Can you remember the way?" he asked her in a low voice.

Tallulah nodded, slightly unsure, "Yeah, I think so."

"Then go. _Please_."

"But Laszlo, you gotta _come_ with me."

"Where would I go?" Laszlo smiled sadly, "Tallulah, I'm _beggin_ ' you, save yourself. Just run. Just go. _Go_." He pushed her away softly as she reluctantly let go, Laszlo moved to join the Doctor.

As the Daleks passed, as subtly as he was able, the Doctor fell into line with the group as Laszlo played guard, the Doctor falling beside Martha, "Just keep walking," he muttered to her as a smile pulled on her lips at the mere sound of her voice.

Martha sighed in relief, "I'm so glad to see you."

"Yeah, well, you can kiss me later, you too Frank," he retorted, feigning amusement, "'Mara, the invitation's open to you too," he added, frowning when she didn't even seem as though she'd heard him.

The Doctor frowned as he saw the rigid outlines of her shoulders, worry becoming him as he reached forward, taking her hand in his as she jolted at the touch, glancing over her shoulder to see him.

She smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Good to see you, Space Cowboy."

"Are you all right?" He murmured, moving past Martha to walk beside Amara, sensing something wrong.

"Daleks aren't on my wish list, put it that," Amara ground out, taking a breath to steady herself for what was to come.

Squeezing her hand in his hands, he nodded and remained silent as they were led along. He knew that due to her experience, she would understand better than Martha... she had undoubtedly heard the stories.

Having been through the labyrinth of tunnels, they were finally brought into a large laboratory which was undoubtedly the Transgenetic one Dalek Jast had referred to earlier to see another two Daleks awaiting them, though one seemed to be jerking erratically.

"Report," Jast commanded, gliding forwards with Caan following suit.

"Dalek Sec is in the final stage of evolution," a third Dalek, Thay, reported curtly.

 _Four of them_ , Amara thought in disdain, thankful that they were the only one who had managed to survive. She had escaped them once, she could escape them again.

"Scan him," Caan commanded, "Prepare for birth."

The Doctor frowned, "Evolution?" he murmured in thought.

"What's wrong with old Charlie boy over there?" Martha questioned quietly, gesturing to the black Dalek that was jerking violently, stationary behind the others.

"Ask them." Amara nudged her forward.

"'Mara's right," the Doctor agreed, "You need to ask them."

"What _me_?" Martha's eyes widened as the stared at the both of them as though they were insane, "Don't be daft."

"We don't want him to get noticed," Amara told her softly, nodding to the Doctor as he nodded again, "Just demand them to you what's going on. Be assertive."

Taking a deep breath, Martha nodded, steeling herself, "Daleks, I demand to be told," Martha announced, moving outwards from the line, "What is this Final Experiment? Report!"

Amara clamped a hand down on her shoulder, "Just like that," she told her as Caan turned to face her, unnerving them all.

"You will bear witness," Caan replied shortly.

Martha frowning before countering: "To what?"

"This is the dawn of a new age."

"What does _that_ mean?" Martha asked.

"We are the only four Daleks," Caan continued as Amara felt relief wash through her at the news. She'd taken out one prior to meeting the Doctor... "So the species must evolve a life outside the shell... The Children of Skaro must walk again."

As it concluded, the shell of Dalek Sec began to shake more vigorously as it powered down, the casings of the shell opening to reveal a cowed human-Dalek hybrid.

Amara's eyes widened in silent shock as she recognised the clothing that had belonged to the chauvinistic pig that had been Diagoras.

Despite resembling a Dalek, possessing a mouth, one eye and tentacles writhing around his head, he also bore similar humanoid features in physical stature as he stood, stretching.

Looking to the Doctor, Martha leaned back, "What is _it_?" she murmured in fright.

"I am a human-Dalek," Dalek Sec breathed, sounding overwhelmed by his new transformation, "I am your future."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Please read and review - it'd be great to know your thoughts on this so far!**

 **Thanks**


	8. VII

Amara gritted her teeth as her eyes surveyed Sec, watching as he admired his new found freedom, smiling to himself. She'd be damned before another more hybrids were made from their genes.

"These… humans will become like me," Dalek Sec announced to the group, still evidently in marvel of himself.

Sensing the Doctor was up to something, Amara glanced back to see the Doctor slip away, having gone unnoticed by everyone else, ducking behind some machinery.

Amara smiled to herself as she saw him fiddling around as Sec continued with his so-called speech, "Prepare them for hybridization." He called out as the pig men moved closer towards them, grabbing their arms.

"Don't you even consider it!" Amara warned as Martha began to struggle, resisting.

"Leave me alone! Don't you dare!"

And suddenly the faint tones of ' _Happy Days are Here Again_ ' began to drift into the lab and everything seemed to pause from the on, a mutual look of confusion crossing everyone's faces.

Amara sighed in annoyance though a smile had tugged at her lips, "Of all the songs..."

"What is that sound?" Dalek Sec demanded in outrage.

Peering around a corner, the Doctor stepped out with a radio in his hands, "That would be me," he smirked as he set the radio down firmly, "Hello, surprise! Boo. _Etcetera._ "

"Doctor," Dalek Sec acknowledged as Amara couldn't help but chuckled at the fact he was quite literally staring an enemy most likely to kill him in an instant.

"The enemy of the Daleks," Caan called in outrage.

Jast was also on him in an instant, "Exterminate," the other three pointed their gun stick at the Doctor.

"Wait," Dalek Sec ordered, raising his hands to intercept the others.

"Well, then," the Doctor eyed Dalek Sec as he wandered over to him, "A new form of Dalek. Fascinating and _very_ clever."

"The Cult of Skaro escaped your slaughter."

The Doctor arched an eyebrow, scoffing as he continued to eye Dalek Sec. "How did you end up in 1930?"

"Accidental emergency Temporal Shift."

He nodded slowly, "Oh, that must have roasted up your power cells, yeah?" he strolled around them, finding that to be the adequate explanation for their resources seemed to be so scarce. "Time was, four Daleks could have conquered the world but instead your skulking away, hidden in the dark, _experimenting._ " He continued to turn around until his eyes settled upon Sec again, "All of which results in _you_."

"I am Dalek in human form."

"Goodie for you!" Amara sang in vexation, clicking her tongue, "Would you please tell us, how does that feel? That can't feel too good, though? Being human and all, when you hate _all_ of humanity?" the Daleks turned their attention to her, watching her.

"You can talk to us, Dalek Sec. It _is_ Dalek Sec, isn't it?" the Doctor asked, folding his arms over his chest as he held Sec's gaze firmly, coming to stand in front of Amara to remove their attention from her, "That's your name? You've got a name and a mind of your _own_. Tell me what you're thinking right now."

"I… feel… humanity," Dalek Sec spoke hesitantly, turning away as he became conflicted.

"Good," he nodded, watching Sec closely, "That's good."

"I… feel… everything we _wanted_ from mankind, which is ambition, hatred, aggression, and _war_. Such… a _genius_ for war."

"No," the Doctor shook his head profusely, a smile crossing his face in disbelief, "that's not what humanity means."

"You know _nothing_ of what it means to be human." Amara called, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned against a piece of equipment, "They're so much _more_ than you seem to think of them. You know, what you're feeling, it's what was left behind... you're feeling what it means to be _Dalek_."

"That's definitely not human, right 'Mara?" the Doctor called over his shoulder.

"Indeed, Spaceman."

"Oh, I think it does," Amara frowned at Dalek Sec's words, her stomach twisting at the smirk forming on his lips, "At heart, this species is so very… _Dalek_."

"Alright, so what have you achieved then?" the Doctor questioned with a shrug of his shoulders, "With this " _Final Experiment_ ", eh? _Nothing!_ 'Cos I can show you what you're missing with this thing," he pointed to the radio, "Simple little radio…" he patted it rather affectionately.

"What is the purpose of that device?" Jast demanded, eyestalk following him carefully.

"Well, exactly," the Doctor smiled as he spun around to face them again, "It plays music. What's the point of that? Oh, with music, you can _dance_ to it, _sing_ with it, fall in _love_ to it. Unless you're a Dalek of course…"

Turning to look at the group, Amara sighed, "Cover your ears, quickly," she informed them, covering her own as the others moved to imitate her actions, evidently confused.

"Then it's just noise," the Doctor concluded, aiming his sonic screwdriver at the radio as a high-pitched wail erupted from it, causing the Daleks to jolt and jerk at the mere sound, Dalek Sec doubled over in pain along with the pig men.

Spinning, the Doctor turned to see Amara ushering the small group from the lab, Martha and Frank lingering, "Run!" he exclaimed, grabbing Martha and Frank as they followed the others back through the doors.

"Protect the hybrid!" Caan shouted above the upheaval of wailing.

Leading them through the sewers, Amara sprinted ahead until she came to a cross section, pausing momentarily as she glanced either way, frowning. She hated mazes, and sewers were very much mazes. Distasteful and blatantly annoying.

Not looking where she was going, Martha ran into her, jolting her forwards until the Doctor rushed past to grab Amara's hand, pulling her along with him. "Come on! This way! Move, move, move, move!"

Rounding several corners, the Doctor's grip tightened on Amara's hand, not willing to let her go again. Bolting down a tunnel, they rushed past the rather lost looking Tallulah, "Tallulah," the Doctor exclaimed, short of breath, "Run!"

"What's happened to Laszlo?" she stared after them as Martha grabbed her, pulling her along.

The Doctor's eyes widened when he caught sight of the ladder, hauling Amara along furiously as he raced towards it, "C'mon!" he yelled, skidding to a halt, motioning for Martha to climb up it, "Everyone up! Up! Up!"

Martha led the way up, helping up Tallulah before they helped the two other gentlemen who had been with them, Frank furiously climbing up as the Doctor's gaze landed on Amara, who was staring out over the surrounding tunnels, listening for any inhuman sounds.

"'Mara!" the Doctor grabbed her and pushed her towards the ladder, nudging her up it, determined to see her climb it before him. He wouldn't loose her again.

* * *

Daleks in Manhattan. The Daleks had survived, somehow, which when one thought about it was that hard to believe seeing as they always seemed to survive. Visibly shaken, she didn't bother to try and conceal it from Martha, she'd seen too much already. Her questioning would never end, and Amara would give in. That's the way it always went.

Rubbing her arm, Amara sighed as she settled onto a log around a makeshift fire, Martha and Tallulah having seated themselves on some crates, "I think you might have done something to my arm," she chided, frowning at the Doctor as he paced, awaiting Soloman.

He winced, scratching the back of his head, crouching beside her. "Sorry 'bout that, 'Mara." The Doctor murmured softly, placing a hand on her arm, rubbing it slightly.

"Why did you freak out?" Amara pressed, frowning at him, finding it odd that he seemed freak more when she did something idiotic rather than Martha. "About me, I mean..."

"I left you down there once, I wasn't going to do it again," the Doctor breathed, running a hand over his face as he sighed, "I've lost you twice now. It's not good tally to have, as your _Spaceman_ , it's my duty to protect you." he didn't wish to add to it either, and he wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

She smiled slightly, finding some comfort in his words, "Don't worry your pretty little head, Spaceman. I'm a boomerang," she saw him tilt his head in question which roused a smirk form her lips, "I'll always come back."

The Doctor went to reply until he saw Soloman finally approached, a shotgun cocked over his shoulder, grimacing he straighten and gave a deep sigh. "I hate guns..."

Trying to reason with Soloman, and martyr for a losing cause, was never going to go well. No matter how her tried, the Doctor knew he wouldn't be able to convince them to leave. They were too bloody stubborn for their own good.

"These Daleks, they sound like the stuff of nightmares," Solomon frowned at the Doctor, finding the story hard to believe, "And they wanna _breed_?"

"They're splicing themselves into human bodies, Soloman," Amara sighed, her eyes boring into the fire as she contemplated their situation. She was anxious and concerned; Daleks who were willingly to use humans as a mean to evolve themselves had been very _very_ desperate. Desperate equaled danger in her eyes... led to irrational behaviour, not that the Daleks were _ever_ rational.

"Amara's right," the Doctor nodded, watching her for a moment, "If I'm right, they've got a farm of breeding stock right here in Hooverville which means we've got to get everyone out."

"Hooverville's the lowest place a man can fall," Solomon still refused to believe what the Doctor was jabbering about it, "There's _nowhere_ else to go."

"I'm sorry, Solomon. You've _got_ to scatter. Go anywhere. Down to the railroads, travel across state, just get out of New York..." the Doctor pleaded earnestly.

Soloman sighed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought, mulling over his options, "There's got to be a way to reason with these things…"

"You've got no chance of that happening," Martha explained with a firm shake of head, willing the man to stop and realise how much danger they were all in they stared there any longer. They were being hunted. And they were stationary.

"They won't listen," Amara spoke, her voice having grown quiet, "It's in their genetics, they _never_ listen... just like humans apparently, perhaps Sec might have correct..." she tried to tactic of bitterness to see if Soloman would budge, "who knows?"

"You ain't seen 'em, boss," Frank breathed out, still looking sheepish, confused. His eyes glistening in terror.

"Daleks are bad enough at anytime," the Doctor affirmed gravely, "But right now they're vulnerable and that makes them _more_ dangerous than ever."

Through the air the sound of a whistle blew, followed by a man who came running into camp, a gun in hands, "They're coming! They're coming!"

"A sentry," Solomon looked over as spurred himself into action, "Must have seen something."

"They're here! I seen 'em! _Monsters!_ They're monsters!"

"It's started," the Doctor breathed out, seeing the fluid motion of men running, chaos ensuing as he knew what was about to come.

"We're under attack!" Solomon turned to the crowd, ushering them to be silent, "Everyone to arms!" at his words, men began running again, grabbing what guns they could find.

"No!" Amara shouted, shaking her head. If the men listened to his orders they would die anyway. "That's not the way to go about it!" she pleaded, they were always e better alternative than war and death. No one deserved death. "You can't fight them..."

"I'm ready, boss!" Frank called, rushing over to take a stand next to Solomon, "But all o' you find a weapon! Use anything!"

"Frank," Amara bit her lip, "Don't do this..."

"What would you know about warfare?" Soloman challenged, glaring at her, "You're a woman!"

Ignoring the comment, Amara chose to rise above it even as Frank took arms, "You think this makes you all brave?" she demanded in fury, glancing at them all as screamed continued to echo around them, "You need to know when to let go of pride and do the right thing: stand between the enemy and the ones you love. Without weapons, without the desire for war." She'd seen war, she'd seen the destruction it left in its wake. She didn't want another. She wasn't sure she could survive another. "Death doesn't bring contentment, it brings conscience."

Her words having sunk, spurred various men to run away, the chaos growing around them, "Come back!" Soloman shouted desperately, "We gotta stick together! It's not safe out there! Come back!"

Suddenly squealing could be heard around them, and soon enough pig men were running through Hooverville, attacking anyone who stood in their way or tried to escape.

Climbing atop the crates Martha and Tallulah had been sat on, Amara glanced around the campsite, watching as everyone was pushed towards the centre, "They're cutting us off, we're trapped..." she told the Doctor, glancing around frantically, "No escape."

"We need to get out of the park," Martha shouted, her own panic getting the better of her as people were pushed back.

Swallowing, Amara frowned when she couldn't see any Daleks in sight... _where were they?_ "We can't get out..." Amara shook her head in defeat.

"They're on all sides," the Doctor agreed, "They're driving people back towards us."

Tallulah's breath hitched in her throat: "We're trapped!"

"Then we stand together," Solomon exclaimed, "Gather 'round. Everybody come to me. You there, Jethro, Harry, Seamus, stay together," they were all crowded around, pressing together near the fire as the pig men surrounded them, pausing in their movements, "They can't take all of us."

Upon saying so, he opened fire on the pigs, anyone with a gun following suit as Amara threw herself from the crate, pushing through until she reached Soloman, knocking his arm. "No!" she smacked the gun away when he went to raise it again, "Stop it! You won't win, how can it be said anymore plainly? You won't win!"

Having had enough of her interfering, Soloman raised the but of the gun as though to hit her until the Doctor grabbed her arm, yanking her out of the way.

Martha continued to look around them frantically, helpless as the men attacked the pig men, "If we can just hold them off till daylight," she spoke hopefully.

"It's not them we should be worrying about." Amara breathed, her eyes trailing towards the sky.

Following Amara's gaze, the Doctor's shoulders tensed, "They're just the foot soldiers."

Glancing up, Martha's eyes widened when she saw a Dalek flying above in the sky, heading straight for them, "Oh my God!"

"That is what I call cheating." Amara grumbled as people began to scream.

"What in this world…" Solomon's eyes widened in terror when he finally clocked the Dalek flying above in the sky.

"It's the devil, a devil in the sky. God save us all... it's damnation."

"Oh yeah?" Frank glowered at it, raising his gun, "We'll see about that!" he fired at the Dalek which did absolutely nothing, no damage inflicted.

Amara set a hand on Frank's gun, pushing it down to lower it, "No, Frank."

"There's more than one of them!"

Immediately both began to blast everything and anything that moved as they flew through the sky, fire sprouting up as the Daleks attacked shelters, people screaming as they ducked for covered, others dying as they were hit by the Daleks.

Amara clenched her jaw in frustration, the scene reminded all too much of the very war she'd fought in to prevent a future like the one unfolding before her. It was the war all over again. Pain, death, destruction...

"The humans will surrender!"

"Leave them alone!" the Doctor cried out in outrage, "They've done nothing to you!" as he continued to shout, Soloman stepped forward until the Doctor pulled him back sharply, "No, Soloman. Stay back."

"I'm told that I'm addressin' the Daleks, is that right?" Solomon ignored the warning, turning his attention to Daleks, "From what I hear, you're outcasts, too."

"Solomon, don't," Amara breathed, hoping he would listen, just once.

"Look this is _my_ township, you will respect _my_ authority," Solomon turned to glare at her and the Doctor, fed up of being undermined by the pair of them since they arrived.

"Soloman," Amara called him to her, forcing him to look at her, "You can't reason with them, they won't listen to you, they'll kill before that ever happens. Please, don't."

Looking at her, he gulped but soon steeled his resolve, turning away as he pushed the Doctor back, "Daleks… ain't we all the same? Underneath, ain't we all kin?" he put his gun and dropped it to the ground, "'Cos, see, I've just discovered this past day God's Universe is a thousand times the size I thought it was. And that scares me. Oh, yeah. _Terrifies_ me. Right down to the bone. But it's got to give me hope… _hope_ that maybe together we can make a better tomorrow. So I… I beg you now if you have any compassion in your hearts then you'll meet with us and stop this fight. Well…" he managed a small smile as he held his hands in the air, "what do you say?"

"Exterminate!" Thay cried out, firing on him as Amara reacted and grabbed Soloman by the collar, yanking him back for the shot to miss him.

Soloman staggered backwards into the arms of Frank, people screamed at the attempt on his life, wailing as Frank made sure he was all right.

"They tried kill him," Martha gasped, "They just shot at him where he stood!"

Amara sighed, "It's what they do, Martha... it's in their nature."

Marching forward, the Doctor had had enough. He would allow any more shots to be fired at innocent people for the sake of a renewed species, "Daleks!" he spat, seething as he glowered up at the two Daleks above him, "All right, so it's my turn! Then kill me! _Kill me!_ Kill me if it'll stop you attacking these people!"

"Doctor," Amara hissed, trying to pull him back, grabbing his hand. He couldn't afford to be so reckless when facing the Daleks. She watched as his fingers pushed her own away, separating them so he was alone.

"I will be the destroyer of our greatest enemy!" Jast exclaimed, raising its gunstick.

"Then do it!" he encouraged, "Do it! Just do it!" he slapped his chest in fury, " _Do it!_ "

"He can't," Amara frowned, feeling something shift within her, not entirely sure what she was feeling...

Looking over at her, Martha frowned at the pained expression frozen on her face, seeing the same glint in Amara's eyes that she'd seen once before. She couldn't place it exactly, but she recognised the glint within the woman's eyes.

"Extermin…" Jast started but never finished, unexpectedly trailing off, "… I do not understand, it is the Doctor," the Doctor glanced back at the group in confusion when hearing only Jast's replies to what was being said, "The urge to kill is too strong," the Doctor turned to face Jast against as it lowered its gunstick, "I... obey."

"What's going on?" the Doctor demanded, wanting to know why its mind had been changed. Daleks never changed their minds, _never_.

"You will follow," Jast told him, turning its back to glide away.

"No!" Martha pushed forward, grabbing his arm to pull him when he moved to follow, "You can't go!"

"He's got to, Martha," Amara told her softly, folding her arms, "He doesn't have much a choice."

"The Daleks changed their minds, they _never_ change their minds."

"But what about us?" Martha glanced between herself and Amara.

He looked reluctant, torn... he knew Amara understand the danger, but Martha was too eager to help whenever and wherever she could, he frowned and sighed, turning back to face the Daleks again, "One condition!" the Doctor exclaimed, "If I come with you, you spare the lives of everyone here! _Do you hear me?_ "

"The humans will be spared. Doctor…" Jast agreed after a moment of silence, "follow."

"Then I'm coming with you," Martha moved to follow but Amara pulled her back.

"Martha, stay here," the Doctor told her firmly, "Do what _you_ do best. People are hurt... _you_ can help them. Let me go," reluctantly, he turned to follow the Daleks before suddenly rushing back, "Oh, and can I just say, thank you very much." He reached out to grab Martha's hand, pressing something into it and winking before walking off again.

Looking down at her hand, Martha frowned when she saw the Doctor's psychic paper, "What..." she murmured in confusion, looking over at Amara.

Shrugging, the woman turned to stare after the Doctor's retreating figure, sighing, "Come on, let's help these people before we try to figure out a plan of action." She led her towards groups of people huddled on the ground, injured and cowering.

* * *

Arriving in the lab, the Doctor marched straight towards Sec, seething, "Those people were defenceless! You only wanted me, but no, that wasn't enough for you! You had to start killing 'cause that's the _only_ thing a Dalek's good for!"

"The deaths..." Dalek Sec sighed, nodding his head slowly, "were wrong."

The Doctor blinked, not entirely sure if he'd heard correctly, "I'm sorry?"

"That man, their leader Solomon, he showed courage," Dalek Sec explained thoughtfully, "I am grateful he was not harmed."

"And that's good?" the Doctor questioned slowly.

"That's _excellent_."

The Doctor paused for a moment, evaluating the humanity Sec appeared to be displaying, odd for an ordinary Dalek, "Is it me or are you just becoming a little bit more human?" he questioned, leaning towards him, intrigued.

"You are one of the last of your kind and now I am the first of mine."

The Doctor frowned at his words, especially " _one of the last_ ", he _was_ the last of his kind. He'd always been so sure of it, "What do you want me for?"

"We tried everything to survive when we found ourselves stranded in this ignorant age," Dalek Sec informed him shortly, sighing in what appeared to be frustration, "Another of your kind, a female, forced us here to this wretched place. She showed admirable courage..." he trailed, seeming to be in awe of memories.

The Doctor tensed as Sec talked about a woman, a Time Lady, he felt his chest constricting, " _She?_ Who?" he demanded, feeling a sudden anxiety growing within him, "Who was _she?_ " he sounded so desperate, knowing that what Boe had said... Sec had supplied so truth to it. Perhaps there were more out there...

" _The Lady_ , that was her name, a name to be feared and to be awed," Dalek Sec commented softly, recalling how swift a defeat it had been. "Such bold intelligence was overwhelming..." the Doctor's eyes widened at his words, almost as though he was hanging off each syllable but he couldn't recall ever having know a Time Lady by that name. "But, first we tried growing new Dalek embryos but their flesh was too weak."

Despite wanting to desperately know more about the Time Lady they'd met, he had to push his mind away from the topic, "Yeah, I found one of your experiments," he glowered at Sec, "Just left to die out there in the dark."

"It forced us to conclude what is the greatest resource of this planet, its people," Dalek Sec continued, moving to lift a switch on the wall, the ceiling above them flickering as the lights above showed masses of human bodies hanging suspended, moving to press another switch as one of the bodies was lowered, "We stole them. We stole human beings for our purpose. Look... inside," the Doctor hesitated a moment before pulling back the white cover to see the concealed man lying beneath, "This... is the extent of the Final Experiment."

Inspecting the Doctor, he frowned, leaning towards it closely, "Is he dead?"

"Near death with his mind wiped ready to be filled with new ideas."

"Dalek ideas." The Doctor replied.

Dalek Sec regarded him for a moment, "The Human-Dalek race."

"All of these people," the Doctor up at all the bodies hanging limply above them, "How many?"

"We have caverns beyond this storing _more_ than a thousand."

"Is there _any_ way to restore them?" the Doctor's eyes trailed of Dec, silently pleading with him, "Make them human again?"

Dalek Sec looked away as though he was feeling remorse, the guilt at having left all those human futile, useless... helpless, "Everything they were has been lost."

"So they're like shells," the Doctor shook his head in disbelief, "You've got empty human beings ready to be converted... that's going to take a hell of a lot of power. This planet hasn't even split the atom yet... so, how're you gonna do it?" he teased, tilting his head in interest.

"Open the conductor plan," Dalek Sec ordered the other Daleks, prepared to show the Doctor their plans for evolution.

Dalek Sec was stood before a diagram of The Empire State Building, "Yeah, yeah, yeah." The Doctor nodded along, "The Empire State Building. We're right underneath that, I worked that out already, thanks... but what, you hijacked the whole building?"

"We needed an energy conductor," Sec told him firmly.

The Doctor frowned, "What for?"

"I... am the genetic template. My altered DNA was to be administered to each human body," Sec pressed a button as plans flew across the screen before them, "A strong enough blast of gamma radiation can splice the Dalek and human genetic codes and wake each body from its sleep."

Watching the plans fly by, the Doctor frowned, "Gamma radiation? What are..." he trailed off, confused before he realised, "Oh, the _sun_ , you're using the sun."

"Soon... the greatest solar flare for a thousand years will hit the Earth," Dalek Sec switched some controls so that the screen displayed the sun as well as the upcoming flare, "Gamma radiation will be drawn to the energy conductor and when it strikes..."

"The army wakes," the Doctor whispered in realisation, though another frown crossed his face immediately after. He didn't like the idea that he was trapped in laboratory with four Daleks, and _thousands_ of human with Dalek minds waiting to spring to life, "I still don't know what you need me for..."

"Your genius," Dalek Sec glanced at him, smiling slightly, "Consider a pure Dalek, intelligent but emotionless."

"Removing the emotions makes you stronger," the Doctor turned to face him, his worry growing once more, knowing the danger everyone was in. "That's what your creator thought all those years ago. "

"He was wrong."

"He was _what?_ " the Doctor blinked in surprise for the second time in a short while.

"It makes us lesser than our enemies. We must return to the flesh," Sec paused as the other Daleks seemed to have grown uneasy by his words, "And also... the _heart_."

The Doctor clicked his tongue in thought, "You wouldn't be the supreme beings anymore," he reminded Sec softly.

"And that is good."

"That is incorrect," Caan exclaimed in protest.

Jast had also spoken as well: "Daleks are supreme."

Dalek Sec shook his head at them, "No, not anymore."

"But that is our purpose." Jast argued.

"Then our purpose is _wrong!_ Where has our quest for supremacy led us? To this... because we were bested by _his_ kind," Dalek Sec gestured to the Doctor, " _Hiding_ in the sewers on a primitive world... just _four_ of us left. If we do not change now then we _deserve_ extinction."

"So," the Doctor watched him curiously for a moment, wanting to make sure he'd understood what Sec was implying, "you want to change everything that makes a Dalek a Dalek."

"If... you can help me. Your knowledge of genetic engineering is even greater than ours," Sec explained as he turned to look at the Doctor, "The new race must be ready by the time the solar flare erupts."

"But you're the _template_ ," the Doctor countered, "I thought they were getting a dose of _you_."

"I want to change the gene sequence."

"Wait," the Doctor breathed, shaking head to clear his mind of his confused thought, "You want to make them even _more_ human?"

"Humans are the great survivors," Sec acknowledged with a firm bob of his head, tentacles writhing about, "We need that ability."

"Hold on a minute," the Doctor interrupted, glancing over his shoulder to gesture at the three remaining Daleks, "There's no way this lot are gonna let you do it."

"I am their leader."

The Doctor spun around to face the other Daleks, "Oh, and that's enough for you, is it?"

"Daleks must follow orders," Jast informed curtly.

"Dalek Sec commands, we obey," Caan added.

"If you don't help me..."Sec allowed a deep sigh to pass his lips, of annoyance of what could occur if they weren't added, "nothing will change."

"There's no room on Earth for another race of people." The Doctor challenged softly, though he could feel himself being persuaded to help Sec's cause.

"You have your TARDIS," Dalek Sec implored softly, moving towards him, "Take us across the stars. Find us a new home and allow the new Daleks to start again."

Glancing around, the Doctor tapped his chin in thought, "When's that solar flare?"

"Eleven minutes."

"Right then," the Doctor announced, clasping his hands together before jumping into action, "Better get to work."

* * *

Amara watched Martha as she worked away, frowning with her hands poised under her chin. Thankfully, the situation they'd landed themselves in wasn't as bad as it _could_ have been...

Poking her head inside the tent, Tallulah smiled sadly, "Here you go," she brought in a pot of boiling water, "I got some more on the boil."

"Thanks," Martha smiled at her gratefully before turning back to the man she'd been treating, "You'll be all right, it's just a cut, so try to keep it clean."

Getting up, the man smiled at her, "Thanks." He replaced his hat on his head and moved to leave as another man entered.

Amara was pulled from her thoughts when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Glancing to the side, she frowned when she saw Soloman standing above her, a guilt look evident on his face, "Are you all right?" she didn't have a clue why he was there. He'd made his opinion clear.

"You saved my life," he told her, sitting down opposite Amara, looking truly grateful for her intervention.

Amara brushed him off, "It's what people do, it's always better to save a life than to take one." She'd learnt that from her mother, and she had valued it ever since she could remember.

"I should have listened to you," Soloman explained softly, "You and the Doctor, I'm sorry..."

Amara nodded, finding that there was no need for words, no need to explain herself to him. She had been right, he'd been wrong... "Soloman, you better go and check everyone is all right, properly... boost morale, do something," she encouraged, ushering the man out of his own tent without another word.

"So what about us?" Tallulah asked once he was gone, leaning against the entrance to the tent, "What do we do now?"

"The Doctor gave me this," Martha pulling out the psychic paper and showed it to Tallulah, "He must have had a reason."

"What's that for?"

"It's his psychic paper," Amara explained, looking up at the pair of them with a sigh, "It's usually, so basically... it can be used to get you into places, buildings _etcetera_... but where is the true question," she tapped her chin in thought, frowning, "So, obviously he wants us to use it to get somewhere, but where? _Where?_ "

Martha eyed her, "What do you mean?"

"Right," Amara rose to her feet, "That blob that we found in the tunnels failed whatever experiment he carried out on it; it was part of a Transgenetic conversion from one DNA to another. Their final experiment involved them converting humans to Daleks, but only their intelligence." She paused, rubbing the back of her neck as she began to pace back and forth "But their weak, so they'd need a more prominent energy source..."

"Wait a minute," Martha interjected, trying to think back to when they were being led through the tunnels by the pig men, "Down in the sewers the Daleks mentioned this... energy conductor."

Tallulah glanced between the pair of them, confused, "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. Maybe like a…" Martha stumbled over her words, squinting as she tried to think for a suitable answer, "lightning conductor or…"

"Ah, _Dalekanium_!" Amara shouted in uproar, throwing her hands up into the arm, " _Dalekanium!_ Dalekanium, they said the _Dalekanium_ was in place!"

"In place where?" Tallulah quizzed, not entirely following.

"Frank might know," Martha told her before rushing out of the tent, Amara running past Tallulah to followed after her, as Martha skidded to a halt before a hunched Frank, "Frank?"

Looking up, Frank managed a small smile, "Hmm?"

"That Diagoras, he was like some sort of fixer, yeah?" Martha pressed eagerly, "Get you jobs all over town?"

"Yeah," Frank nodded weakly, still evidently shaken, "He could find a profit anywhere."

"But where though?" Amara added, folding her arms over her chest, her brow furrowing, "What sort of things?" her gaze trailed to the Empire State Building as wonder grew with her eyes, a thought piquing her mind, the only plausible option...

"You name it. We're all so desperate for work, you just hoped Diagoras would pick you for something good," Frank explained, scratching the back of his eyes as he looked over to see Soloman rounding up the survivors, "Building work... that pays the best."

Martha frowned, "But what sort of building work?"

"Of course..." Amara murmured in realisation, gaping at the building under construction.

"Mainly building that," Frank nodded to where Amara was staring.

"That's where the energy conductor is," Amara announced gesturing to the very top of the building, "So, if Sec was the genetic template, his DNA would be the converter... but that wouldn't do it alone," she sighed, raising an eyebrow, "The Daleks are going to need a surge of energy - _gamma radiation!_ "

"What the hell is that?" Tallulah asked, never heard of such a thing before.

"How amusing..." Amara laughed to herself, running a hand over her face in shock, "Perfect timing, as well. So, they're going to need the gamma radiation as the main energy conductor, and of course, _of course_ , it will travel the entire length of the building and go directly to their lab."

"How do you know that?" Martha asked, eyes wide in confusion and surprise.

"The tale is thrilling!" Amara exclaimed, practically bouncing in amusement. "So many adventures! So many reason why!" She grinned in amusement despite the danger in their wake. "We need to go, come on!"

"We need to get up there," Martha nodded to the building, "That's why the Doctor gave us the paper."

"Well, let's get moving," Tallulah agreed, pulling Martha towards the building as Frank jumped up, looking between the women confusedly.

* * *

Surprisingly, they'd managed to get into the building with no hindrance, courtesy of the paper which had allowed them safe passage into the service lift, "I always wanted to go to the Empire State. Never imagined it quite like this though." Martha spoke, trying to relieve the tension as Amara paced back and forth in the confine space, thinking.

"Where are we headed anyway?" Frank pressed.

"To the top where they're still building," Amara replied instantly, drumming her fingers against her temple.

Tallulah frowned, leaning against the lift's wall, "How come those guys just let us through?" Tallulah frowned, glancing at the paper. "How's that thing work?"

"The psychic paper shows them whatever the holder wants them to think," Amara told Tallulah, "He thinks it makes him clever, it doesn't always work but when it does, it's brilliant.

Martha grinned at Amara, "According to this, we're two engineers, and two architects."

When the lift came to a halt, the doors swinging open, Tallulah rushed out and spun around in marvel, her eyes wide with amazement. "Look at this place!" Tallulah exclaimed in excitement as the others stepped out, "Top of the world!"

Moving towards a desk, Amara pulled Martha with her as they both saw some architectural plans scattered about, disorderly, "Okay, now this looks good," Martha remarked as Frank wondered over.

"Hey, look at the date," Frank pointed when Martha started to flip through the sheets of paper, "These designs were issued _today_... so, they must've changed something last minute."

"You mean the Daleks changed something?" Martha frowned.

"Oh," Amara flicked through the rest of them, a crease frowning in her brow, "The ones underneath, they're from before... so, what's new?"

"That means that whatever they changed must be on this top sheet but not this one," Martha told Amara who nodded, pulling the top two off, "We need to check one against the other."

"The height of this place!" Tallulah remarked in awe, losing herself in the colossal magnitude of the building, "This is amazing!"

"Careful, we're a hundred floors up," Martha warned Tallulah as Amara knelt on the floor with Frank, comparing the plans, "Don't go wandering off."

"I just wanna see," Tallulah called, moving towards an open area which overlooked the city, causing her to fall speechless at the mere so the city alight, glittering, "New York City! If aliens had to come to Earth, no wonder they came here."

Martha and Amara sat on their knees, frowning as Frank glanced around, "I'll go and keep an eye out," Frank announced, moving away cautiously as Amara's brow furrowed deeper, "Make sure we're safe up here. Don't want nobody buttin' in."

He walked off as Tallulah wandered back over, "There's a hell of a storm movin' in."

"I wish the Doctor was here," Martha sighed as she looked over the plans, "He'd know what we're looking for."

"Oh, Martha," Amara scoffed, feigning offence at her comment, "I'd like to think we're both just as capable as that Time Lord."

"So," Tallulah addressed Amara, "You're 'Mara... his girl, so when did you and he, y'know... hook up?" she smirked as Amara glanced up, frowning.

" _Hook up?_ " Amara repeated before her eyes widening, "Oh no, we're not..." she brushed off Tallulah's assumption, turning her attention back to the plans immediately.

"Right," Tallulah nodded, looking to Martha, knowing she wasn't going to get a straight answer out of the other woman, "Where di you and him first hook up?"

"It was in a hospital, sort of..."

Tallulah nodded in understanding, a smile crossing her lips, "'Course, him bein' a doctor," she knelt beside them on the floor.

"Actually, _I'm_ a doctor," Martha corrected with a small smile, "Well, kind of."

"You're a _physician_?" Tallulah's eyes widened as she gaped at her in shock, "Really?"

"I was training. Still am, if I ever get back home."

"You could be doctors together! What a partnership," Tallulah marvelled with a sigh, "Oh, it's such a shame. If only he wasn't so…" Tallulah glanced at Amara, "Different and into _this_ one. You know what I mean?"

"What?" Amara's head snapped up, eyeing the two women, "It's not like that! It's nothing like that flirtationship thing you made up either, Martha." The topic had become a regular thing with Martha, and it was growing tiresome. Boring. There was no love left in her heart. Love had been stolen from her, it had died the same way most of who she was had. The war had ruined her.

"Oh, you have no idea how different he really is." Martha smiled softly, nudging Amara playfully.

"Yeah, he's a man, sweetheart," Tallulah chuckled, "That's different enough."

Martha sighed, sitting back on her knees as Amara continued to frown over the plans, "He had this… companion a while back. This friend." Martha frowned and looked at Amara, remembering the argument she'd had with the Doctor earlier, "Rose... and ever since then he's been on his own. But you know, sometimes I say something or do something and he looks at me, and I just sort of think… that he's not seeing _me_. He's just remembering."

"Aw, listen sweetheart," Tallulah set a comforting hand on Martha's shoulder, squeezing it slightly, "You wanna get all sad? You wanna have a contest with me and Laszlo?"

"No," Martha sighed, "But listen, if the Doctor's with Laszlo now, there's every chance that he could get him out."

"And then what?" Tallulah sighed in defeat, "Don't talk crazy. There's no future for me and him... those Dalek things took that away. The _one_ good thing I had in my life and they _destroyed_ it," her voice broke as a sob ripped through her throat, causing her stand and walk away again.

"It's not like that, you know," Amara looked to Martha with a small smile, hating that Martha had so little regard of herself, and that she thought she was living in Rose's shadow. "He's not remembering her during his time with you... you're not second best, Martha."

"You heard him, 'Mara," Martha sighed, " _'One last trip_ '."

"Like he's going to let you go that easily," Amara scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief at Martha's beliefs, "The Doctor _needs_ his doctor, Doctor Jones."

Martha smiled at her words, her eyes falling to the plans as they fell on something, a frown appearing, "Gotcha! Look!" she pointed to the base of building's mast, making Amara frowned, "There, on the mast. Those little lines? They're _new_. They've added something, see?"

"Added what?" Tallulah frowned, leaning over, trying to make the adjustments out.

"Dalek-bloody-anium!" Amara exclaimed as she jumped to her with a wide gaze, rounding a corner to rush out onto the platform, looking at the height above her and blanching, "Oh, that's high..." looking over her shoulder, she sighed, "We've got to get the Dalekanium down before the solar flare hits!"

Rubbing her hands on her trousers, she moved towards the ladder and began to ascend the climb that would eventually lead to the mast.

Running out on the platform, Martha gaped, "But the storm... 'Mara!" she exclaimed, bile rising into the throat as she stared after her helplessly.

"Martha, don't worry!" Amara called back over her shoulder, "Just help in anyway you can!"

Sighing, Martha raced back inside just as the doors to the lift dinged, reveal the Doctor and Laszlo, "Doctor!" she cried out, glad to see him alive and well.

"First floor, perfumery," the Doctor grinned at her.

"I never thought I'd see you again!" Tallulah exclaimed sprinting over to Laszlo as she threw her around him, hugging him tightly to her, afraid to let him go.

"No stopping me," Laszlo remarked, hugging her back.

"We worked it out," Martha told the Doctor impatiently, leading him over to the plans, gesturing to the mast with a shaky hand, "We know what they've done... there's Dalekanium on the mast. And it's good to see you too, by thy way."

The Doctor grinned, laughing, "Oh, come here," he pulled Martha into a tight hug, spinning her around before immediately setting her down when the bell to the lift dinged again, the door shutting. Running over to them, he sighed, "No, no, no. See... never waste time with a hug," he whipped out his sonic screwdriver, flashing it over the panel, "It's a deadlock seal... I can't stop it."

"Where's it going?"

"Right down to the Daleks. And they're not going to leave us alone up here," the Doctor turned to the group as Frank rushed back into the room, "What's the time?"

"Eleven-fifteen," Frank answered, looking more pale than before, having seen what Amara was doing.

"Six minutes to go," he murmured under his breath, "I've got to remove the Dalekanium before…"

"The solar flare occurs... the gamma radiations when it hits," Martha concluded with a pained expression, "Amara figured it out, y'know what she's like."

His eyes widened, finding she'd rendered him in awe yet again, " _Really?_ " he breathed, his eyes searching for the woman who wasn't present. When he couldn't locate her, his hearts fell within his chest, the same worry from earlier flooding through his body when he was certain she wasn't there, "Where's 'Mara?"

"I tried to stop her," Martha told him, nodding to the platform at the edge of the construction area, "She wouldn't listen... she's trying to get the Dalekanium down."

That's all the Doctor need to hear before he was running, the others following behind him as he stared out over the city, his stomach dropping. "Oh, that's high... that's very – blimey, that's high."

Nudging him in the side, Martha's eyes watched as she could see a figure up on the mast, "That's the mast up there, look... there's three pieces of Dalekanium at the base."

Following Martha's gaze, the Doctor paled, "'Mara!" he called out, hoping to hear her voice.

"Hurry up and get climb that ladder," she shouted back, her voice echoing above the sound of the storm, "You're sonic would be wonderful right now!"

"What do you think you're doing?!" She didn't reply, and that worried him further, "Remind me to handcuff her whenever she has any stupid ideas like this again," he commented as lightning flashed, "I'm going up there and getting her down. I'll worry about the Dalekanium seeing as I'm the one with sonic." He told Martha, moving to climb up the ladder.

"I won't just stand her," Martha argued, "Not while you two- "

"You're gonna have your hands full, anyway... I'm sorry, Martha, but you've got to fight."

Immediately ascending the ladder, he began to furiously climb up the scaffolding which led to the mast, making out the figure that was Amara, chucking what appeared to be a bolt in some random direction.

Glowering, he finally reached the base of mast and pushed himself up, crawling to Amara's side, seeing hr shaking from the cold as the winds howled around them, rain pelting them from above.

"Damn things," her voice broke as she strained, trying to pry the bars of the Dalekanium with her bare hands, "You're going to have to use your sonic to get them off."

Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, Amara went to grab it but he pulled it away, "I don't think so, greaser... you shouldn't up here, it's too dangerous," he told her firmly, frowning. "Go and help Martha," he sighed when she didn't move, "I don't want to _lose_ you again, I'd feel better knowing you're down there, _safe_."

She watched him for a moment, conflicted. He needed help and so did Martha. Sighing in defeat, she nodded and moved to climb back down, leaving him to it just as he wanted.

Climbing down carefully, she rushed back into the construction area to see Laszlo on the floor, resting against the wall with Tallulah by his side. Martha and Frank were armed, stood in front of the lift, awaiting the pig men.

"We'll get slaughtered!" Martha exclaimed.

"No, we won't!" Amara shouted, eyeing a pile of pipes on the ground as a lightning bolt rippled within the sky above. Grabbing two pipes, she dragged them behind her as the others turned to face her, "Metal is a conductor of electricity!"

Nodding, Frank followed suit as did Martha, grabbing more pipes to set them up before the lift, Tallulah continuing to worry over Laszlo, looking up to see them working on the pipes, "What the hell are you clowns doin'?"

"Well, Tallulah with three Ls and an H," Amara sang, positioning a pipe, "Even if the Doctor manages to stop the Dalekanium, this place is _still_ going to get hit... with right lightning strike, electricity with thrive all down this building. So, if we can connect all these pipes to the lift in time, then the piggy's will get zapped. _Creme de la crème!_ "

"Oh my God, that could work!"

Amara rolled her eyes, "That's the plan!"

"Then give us a hand," Frank groaned in frustration, dragging over another pipe.

Clambering to her feet, Tallulah helped him move a pipe as Martha set out the path of pipes to the front of life, frowning when she saw it didn't quite reach, "We're one short!" she told Amara, who glanced over her shoulder at Frank.

"There's none left!" he shouted.

Amara clenched her eyes shut, "Frank, is it connected to the scaffolding?!" she knew there was little choice, little option left for her to do in the situation.

Frank frowned, checking, "Yeah, why?" his eyes widened immediately when he saw her moving towards the lift, grasping the end of the pipe.

Setting her other palm against the metal of the lift, Amara gulped, "You know why." She glanced over at the small group, "Sit in the middle and _don't_ touch anything metal."

"'Mara!" Martha exclaimed, trying to run over to her until Frank pulled her back, struggling, "No!" her eyes darted to the lift as the arrow passed the ninety-fifth floor.

Gritting her teeth, Amara tightened her grasp and prepared the shock as the doors to the lift dinged open, lightning striking the building.

Martha's eyes widened as the electrical shock passed through the pipes and amplify once it reached Amara, vibrating a hideous blue hue, hissing as it met the lift, causing the pig men within it to convulse in pain.

A scream rippled through Amara's lips as the shock fizzled through her, her head burning as she held on until the entirety of the shock had passed through her, her fingers clenching around the metal piping.

Falling to her knees, Amara was thrown forwards, the slight aftershocks causing her body to shake. Rolling over, she sucked in a sharp breath, feeling her hearts beating wildly in her chest. Grunting, she managed to push herself up from the floor, staggering as she barely maintained her balance.

"'Mara," Martha rushed over to her, helping to stand properly, "What the hell just happened?!" she demanded in outrage, her eyes flaring with anger.

"Busted."

Martha's eyes were wide with fright, "What just happened? Are you all right?"

"We did it," Tallulah breathed as they stared at the dead pig men, lying limply on the floor of the lift.

"They used to be like Laszlo," Martha frowned, realising that they had murdered people, that they were no better than the Daleks, "They were people and we killed them."

"Martha," Amara patted her shoulder, "They would have killed us."

"No, the _Daleks_ killed them," Laszlo wheezed, his voice hoarse, "Long ago."

Clearing her throat, Amara doubled over in pain before stretched, feeling her bone crack at the movement, "I won't be doing that again..." she winced, hitting her shoulder when she felt a numbness. Thankfully, her hearts weren't affected.

"What about the Doctor?" Frank exclaimed suddenly as Amara rushed outside, dragging Martha with her, slower than normal.

They found the Time Lord lying on his back, spent and unconscious, near the base of the mast. "Doctor!" Martha called out, panic engulfing much like it had with Amara, "Doctor!"

"He's all right," Amara spoke, patting his arm as she crouched, "A bit of a headache, that's all. What a twonk."

"Oh my head," the Doctor groaned as he came around, rubbing his head with a wince, sitting up slightly.

"Hiya," Martha smiled at him.

"Hi," the Doctor greeted, wincing again, "You survived then,"

Martha eyed Amara from a moment before nodding, "You're getting careless," she gestured to his sonic screwdriver that Amara was waving at him, passing it to him immediately, "I can't helping noticing..." Martha spotted the Dalekanium and winced, "There's Dalekanium still attached."

Her words spurred the Doctor into action once more.

* * *

"The Daleks will have gone straight to a war footing," the Doctor informed them as they all rushed back into the construction area, feeling energised from his shock, sprouting animated liveliness.

"The sewers," Amara sighed, running a hand through her hair, "It's the easiest way to allow their soldiers access to Manhattan without hindrance."

"How do we stop them?" Laszlo sputtered, leaning heavily against Tallulah.

"There's only one chance," the Doctor explained simply, "I got in the way;that gamma strike went zapping though me first."

"But what does that mean?" Martha frowned, eyeing Amara who had also put herself in the way of the gamma strike, wondering if her DNA would have any effect as well.

"We need to draw fire," the Doctor replied, his brow furrowed in thought, "Before they can attack New York, I need to face them. Think, think, think, _think_... we need some sort of space, somewhere safe, somewhere out of the way..."

"The theatre!" Amara announced as the Doctor grinned at her.

Spinning around to face Tallulah, the Doctor's grin widened, "Tallulah!"

"That's me," the showgirl smiled sheepishly, "Three Ls and an H."

"'Mara's right," the Doctor slung an arm over Amara's shoulders, "The theatre, it's right above them and, _what_ , it's gone midnight?" he frowned for a moment, "Can you get us inside?"

She shrugged, "Don't see why not."

"Is there another lift?" he looked around, his eyes falling upon the mess outside the main lift, pig men strewn in several directions, dead.

"We came up in the service elevator," Martha rushed off.

"That'll do," the Doctor grinned, grabbing Amara's hand tightly as he pulled her along with him, " _Allons-y!_ "

Eventually, they found their way down to the theatre with Tallulah's help, bursting through the doors to an empty darkness, lacking all warmth it had been buzzing with earlier that evening. "I ain't afraid of no ghost..." Amara's breathed out.

"This should do it," the Doctor affirmed, looking around as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver again, letting go of Amara's hand, "Here we go."

"There ain't nothin' more creepy than a theatre in the dark," Tallulah commented, looking around, "Listen, Doctor, I know you got a thing for showtunes, but there's a time and place, huh?" Lazlo collapsed into one of the chairs, gaining her immediate attention as she collapsed beside him, "Laszlo, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, panting, not wanting to worry her, "It's just so... hot."

"But…" Tallulah as Amara moved over, pressing a hand to his forehead, "It's _freezing_ in here. Doctor, what's happening to him?"

"It's all right, Laszlo," Amara murmured, clenching her jaw, "Just nice, steady breaths..."

"Not now Tallulah," he replied curtly, listening to the sonic screwdriver, checking the frequency as Martha stood, watching him. "Sorry."

"What are you doing?" Martha pressed with a frown.

"If the Daleks are going to war, they'll wanna find their number one enemy," the Doctor retorted smugly, "I'm just telling them where I am," he held it up and turned it on, a high-pitched sound emitting from it as he waved it around in the air.

"Right," the Doctor glanced at Martha, "I need you to go... go back to Hooverville," he sighed when Martha didn't budge. "I'm telling you to go," the Doctor despaired she and Frank remained stood before him. "Frank can take you back to Hooverville."

"And I'm telling you I'm not going," Martha countered in defiance.

"Martha, that's an _order_."

"Who are you, then? Some sort of Dalek?"

"Martha," Amara groaned, about to defend the Doctor when the doors to the theatre flung open, rows of human with Dalek firearms marching in, flanking them on either sides.

"Oh, my God!" Tallulah tensed, pulling Laszlo to her, "Well I guess that's them then, huh?"

"Humans…" Amara stood, eyeing the theatre, frowning when she saw no Daleks, "With Dalek DNA." She sighed as Frank moved to attack one, like he had done earlier that night, Amara catching his hand and drawing him back. "Frank, _don't_."

"It's all right, Frank," the Doctor called to him, "Just stay calm, don't antagonise them."

"But what about the Dalek masters?" Laszlo frowned, standing as well. "Where are they?"

Immediately, an explosion tore the stage apart, causing them all to duck, the Doctor grabbing Amara as he pulled her down, avoiding the fire of broken wood splintering in their direction, before peering over the seats to see two Daleks gliding forward with Dalek Sec chained to both of them, crawling on his hands and knees.

Pulling Amara up with him, the Doctor sighed at the sight, "Are you all right?" he asked her quietly, worried that he was grabbing her too much lately, yanking her all over the place.

"Yeah," she nodded, cut off by Jast's delightful tones.

"The Doctor will stand before the Daleks," Jast commanded as the Doctor shared a look with Amara before sighing. Sucking in a sharp breath, the Doctor stepped over a chair and began to walk forwards on several backs until he reached the front row, "You will die, Doctor. It is the beginning of a _new_ age."

"Planet Earth will become New Skaro," Thay explained as the Doctor glared.

"Oh, and what a world," the Doctor remarked dryly, "With anything just the slightest bit different ground into the dirt. That's Dalek Sec,2 he nodded at the chained Dalek, "Don't you remember? The cleverest Dalek ever and look what you've done to him. Is _that_ your new empire? Hmm? Is _that_ the foundation for a whole new civilization?"

"My Daleks…" Dalek Sec said, looking between Jast and Thay, pleading with them, "Just understand this. If you choose death and destruction, then death and destruction will choose you."

"Incorrect," Jast argued, "We will _always_ survive."

"Now we will destroy our greatest enemy, the Doctor," Thay added.

"But he can _help_ you," Dalek Sec argued, which continued to surprise the Doctor but the humanity that seemed to shake him.

"The Doctor must die," Jast affirmed in a grave tone.

"No, I beg you, _don't_ ," Dalek Sec crawled before Jast, begging, pleading...

"Exterminate!" Thay exclaimed as Dalek Sec rose when Thay fired, falling to the ground dead instead of the Time Lord that the shot was meant for.

"Your own leader," the Doctor scoffed, disgusted by their treatment of Sec, how they had betrayed him so simply, "The only creature who might have led you out of the darkness and you destroyed him," he turned to the human Daleks, "Do you see what they did? Huh? You see what a Dalek _really_ is?"

Amara bit her lip as she heard the distant calls of Caan, something was evidently wrong from the tone of his voice, stating something about... serotonin levels... _Oh_.

"If I'm gonna die, let's give the new boys a shot," the Doctor encouraged, a smirk crossing his lips, "What do you think, eh? The Dalek-Humans, their first blood. Go on, baptize them," he held out his arms, making himself vulnerable to any oncoming attacks.

"Idiot," Amara rolled her eyes.

"Dalek-Humans, take aim," Jast commanded forcefully as the men cocked their weapons, aiming at the Doctor.

Panicking, Martha moved forward until Amara grabbed her, pulling her back, "Just trust the Spaceman," she murmured, oddly calm as the scene unfolded. Despite his idiocy, the Doctor had a plan.

"What are you waiting for?" the Doctor taunted, "Give the command!"

"Exterminate!" Thay commanded.

The Doctor closed his eyes as Martha tucked her head against Frank's chest, Amara smiling when nothing happened, the men remaining stationary.

"Exterminate!" Thay repeated, his voice rising in volume.

"Obey," Jast cried out, "Dalek-Humans will obey."

"They're not firing," Martha blinked in shock, "They're not... what have you done?"

"Would you look at that?" Amara grinned, shoving her hands into her pockets, "He got struck first."

"You will obey," the second Dalek ordered, "Exterminate."

"Why?" a human questioned as the Doctor looked over at him, smirking in amusement.

"Daleks do not question orders," Jast practically screeched.

"But why?"

"You will _stop_ this."

The human, however, persisted, "But… _why_?"

"You must not question!"

"But you are not our master," the same human responded, "And we… we are _not_ Daleks."

"No, you're not, and you never will be," the Doctor replied, smirking wider as he turned back to the Daleks, "Sorry, I got in the way of the lightning strike... Time Lord DNA got all mixed up. Just that little bit of freedom."

"If they will not obey, then they must die," Thay determined before shooting the human who had spoken, causing to them all to dive from sight.

The Doctor turned and dove backwards, grabbing Amara and pulled her with him. "Get down!" he shouted, landing on top of her as angry cries of " _Exterminate!"_ erupted through the air, followed by a shootout.

"You pick your moments," Amara murmured as the Doctor flushed, looking away when Amara chuckled, "I don't mind..."

The Doctor smiled, staring at her, "You're an enigma, greaser." He smiled more widely when she laughed, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

"Exterminate!" the Daleks continued to shout as both sides opened fire, "Exterminate!"

There were blasts flying overhead as the humans gradually began to fall, but then Thay was blown upon by the onslaught of shots that continued as Jast cried out "Extermi- " Jast never got to finish as he was blown up, destroyed much like Thay was a few moments later.

It went silent for a few moments.

Pushing himself up off of her, the Doctor peered over the top of the chairs, climbing to his feet and helping Amara's to hers before making his way over to the humans, "It's alright," he reassured them, reaching out to lower their weapons, "It's alright, it's alright. You did it... you're _free_."

However a few moments later, the hybrids grabbed their heads in pain, writhing upon the floor.

"No!" the Doctor exclaimed in panic, his eyes widening as he realized what was happening. "They can't! They can't! _They can't!_ "

"What happened?" Martha demanded as she ran up to one of the bodies, her medical instinct kicking in, "What was that?"

"They killed 'em," the Doctor bit out in fury, "Rather than let them live. An entire species... _genocide_."

"Only two were destroyed," Amara told him, walking to his side, "One must still be alive."

"Oh, yes," the Doctor agreed, the anger radiating off of him, "In the whole Universe, just _one_."

* * *

Entering the lab, the Doctor had left them soon after, descending into the depths of the sewers, hoping to reason with the last Dalek, Dalek Caan which of course didn't go well.

Amara broke out into a sprint when she heard the familiar voice echo out to greet them, "Emergency Temporal Shift!" rounding a corner, Amara skidding into the lab just as Caan disappeared, leaving a fury-ridden Doctor behind.

Moving towards him, Amara grasped his hand and squeezed, "They're all cowards in the end," she told him softly, tugging him so he faced her, "Where could he go? You'll get him..." Amara smiled sadly as the Doctor looked down at her.

"I hope so," he mutter darkles as Martha and Tallulah staggered into the lab, supporting Laszlo as they did, drawing the Doctor's attention away from Amara.

"Doctor!" Martha exclaimed in a panic, "Doctor! He's stick!"

Laszlo started to wheeze, coughing as he breathing became erratic, collapsing to the ground as Tallulah cradled him in her lap, "It's okay, you're all right," she murmured as Amara led the Doctor over to him.

Martha shuddered, "It's his heart, it's racing like mad... I've never seen anything like it."

"What is it, Doctor?" Tallulah choked through tears, "What's the matter with him? He says he _can't_ breathe... what is it?"

"It's time sweetheart," Laszlo wheezed as Amara knelt beside Tallulah, rubbing her back.

"What do you mean _'time?_ ' What are you talking about?"

"None of the slaves… survive for long," Laszlo managed quietly, swallowing thickly, "Most of them only live a few weeks, I was _lucky_. I held on 'cos I had you. But now…" Laszlo closed his eyes for a moment, wheezing, "I'm dyin' Tallulah."

"No you're not. Not now, after all this. Doctor, can't you do somethin'?"

"Oh, Tallulah with three Ls and an H…" the Doctor smiled slowly, "Just you watch me!" he jumped to his feet and shrugged off his coat, "What do I need? Oh, I don't know. How about a great big genetic laboratory? Oh look, I've got one.

He twirled around, holding his hands out in awe, "Laszlo, just you hold on," he spurred about, mixing up solutions erratically, "There's been _too_ many deaths today, _way too many_ people have died. Brand new creatures and wise old men and age-old enemies. And I'm tellin' you, I'm tellin' you right _now_ , I am not having one more death! Got that?" he shouted, practically bouncing, "Not one! Tallulah, out of the way," he took his stethoscope out of his pocket and put it on, heading towards Laszlo.

Smiling fondly, Amara pulled the other women out of the way as the Doctor sighed.

"The Doctor is in!"

* * *

Rocking back and forth on her heels, Amara sucked in a sharp breath after leaving a happy Tallulah and Laszlo to continue their life with one another. "So, like I said," she announced, breaking the silence with a smile, "New York is _always_ a good idea."

The Doctor scoffed at her words, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked along together, "You think you're funny," he breathed, pressing his lips to the crown of her head, finding he was worried for her. He knew something had happened while he'd been up the mast; Martha had barely taken her eyes off of her.

"Do you reckon it's gonna work, those two?" Martha asked as she stared at the two of them, smiling as the Doctor held Amara to him. She wondered if she should mention the stunt Amara pulled.

"I hope so," Amara smiled, placing a hand atop of the Doctor's that was clutching her shoulder.

"New York, that's what this city's good at," the Doctor laughed, squeezed Amara, "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, and maybe the odd pig-slave-Dalek-mutant-hybrid-turned-human too."

"The pig man and the showgirl," Martha laughed.

The Doctor beamed, "The pig man and the showgirl."

"Just proves it, I suppose," Martha smiled as they walked back to the TARDIS, "There's someone for everyone."

"Maybe," the Doctor replied quietly, his own smile disappearing though he hold on Amara didn't loosen. His voice was undoubtedly heartbroken, a sad smile appearing.

Amara smiled, giving a soft bob of her head, "Of course, there is."

"Meant to say..." Martha sighed, before quietly adding: "Sorry." She couldn't but wonder how many people he'd travelled with, how many he'd lost over the years... he'd lost people, and still, she knew nothing about him... _how many people had he lost?_

Martha sighed as the Doctor reached around, "Meant to say…sorry."

"What for?" the Doctor glanced at her.

"Do you think we'll ever see Dalek Caan again?" Martha asked, praying the answer was no. She never, _ever_ wanted to see a Dalek again. They were by far the worst thing she'd seen.

"Oh, yes." The Doctor ground out, his tone harsh and resentful, "One day."

As soon as they had returned to the TARDIS, Martha rushed off to her room without giving much indication to the pair of them, leaving Amara with her coat which she slung over the Y-beam along with her own. "So, where to next?" she asked as the Doctor shrugged of his coat.

"Home."

Amara frowned, looking at him for a moment. "You can't take her home, not after everything," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest, hardly believe what he'd said.

The Doctor frowned, "Why can't I?"

Scoffing, Amara shook her head in disbelief, "Unbelievable." she ground out, flicking a lever and turning a few controls. "Martha adores you and you're going to let her go? Are you mad?"

The Doctor thought for a moment, "Well, I've been called a madman before."

"Makes sense." Amara commented as he moved towards her, "One more trip, please... for your idiocy?"

" _My idiocy?_ " the Doctor frowned as she rolled her eyes, she nudged him in the ribs, "Ow... what was that for?" he whined, rubbing his side.

"Well, it was for being a suicidal sawbones back there, y'know... taunting the Daleks to kill you, risking everyone's lives in the process."

"I didn't…" he stumbled over his own words, "I mean I was pretty sure it would work out," he attempted, rubbing a hand over his face before ruffling his hair.

"What happened while I was being all _suicidal_?" he asked, tilting his head as he stared at her closely, "You're different, did something happen? Martha seems worried about you..."

"Martha Jones is _brilliant_ ," Amara smiled genuinely, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket, "We'd both be dead without her."

The stern expression on her face dissipated immediately as she placed a hand against the side of his face, and surprisingly he leaned into the touch, clasping her hand against his cheek, "I'm still _greaser_ ," she told him evenly, "I may have electrocuted myself..."

"What?!" he exclaimed, his eyes immediately scanning her body in a panic. He grabbed her hands, checking for any marks, any injuries... nothing. Why hadn't she told him sooner? Why hadn't Martha told him? Why had _no one_ told him? He wasn't going to push for answers, he would wait until Amara told him... told him whatever she was hiding.

"Stop, stop," Amara slapped his hands away, smiling slightly, "I'm _fine_... I'm not your average human, all right? I was an experiment which means I can withstand unusual things. I never asked for it, but it's useful sometimes. I'm fine." She told him firmly, " _I'm fine_."

He looked at her, a touch of humour simmering within his gaze as he stared at her, "Don't ever do anything like that again," he warned her, finding that she seemed to do things like that often. "I don't want you risking your life... not for Martha. Not for anyone. Not for _me_ either."

Amara threw her head back, rolling her eyes, "You're joking." There was no way he was honestly expecting her to be able to keep that promise when she had failed it numerous times before _even_ pledging it.

"No, I'm not," the Doctor grabbed her hands when she went to move away, drawing her attention back to him, "There could come day when I'm not there, and what if something happens, eh? What then?" he couldn't lose anyone else like the way he lost Rose, he wasn't sure if he could ever come back from that again... he wasn't sure he could survive it again.

Amara squeezed his hands, "Then oops." She didn't know how to reply to what he'd said; she wasn't afraid of dying. It was a natural part of life...

" _Oops?_ " the Doctor repeated, a smile betraying him as he looked down at their hands, "Are you taking this seriously?"

"Death comes for us all in the end," she told him softly with a shrug, "I like to keep myself busy."

"Ah," the Doctor nodded, "So, being a martyr is code word for " _busy_ "?"

"I love that word."

"Hmm," the Doctor hummed, settling against the console as he regarded her softly.

Amara smiled brightly at him, stepping forwards suddenly, "I promise," she vowed, pressing her lips to his cheek for a few seconds before letting go of his hands and walking away, humming to herself.

The Doctor couldn't help but grin at the warm sensation vibrating on his cheek. He liked Amara far _too_ much... she made him feel... content, something he couldn't say he'd felt since Rose.

Shaking his head free of his thought, he frowned at the sudden betrayal. He couldn't push her aside like that; Rose had been the first face his new face had _ever_ seen, he could betray her. He couldn't betray her to the charismatic, witty, warm beam that was Amara.

He couldn't get attached again.

* * *

 **A/N: Please read and review, as always I'd love to know your thoughts - positive/negative on the chapters etc.**

 **Thanks!**


	9. VIII

She'd been staring at the door to Martha's room for most of the morning, either walking past it or just letting it catch her eye. Martha had a _room_. She _had_ a room on the TARDIS. She didn't want it to be forgotten; Martha had a place with them... and damn the Doctor, she'd make him realise it.

Martha was brilliant, and she was their friend... and he was going to ship her off like some unwanted cargo. She wouldn't stand for it. Martha Jones was important, she could feel in her bones and she would endeavour to make him see it.

She'd like to think Martha was her friend; she had had very few friends since the war... all of whom paid the ultimate price for their friendship but she _wanted_ Martha to stay.

Steeling forwards in her resolve, Amara rubbed her neck, dropping her hand immediately when she felt a surge of heat.

Adjusting her collar, she frowned to herself, almost pitying the short length of her platinum locks as they dangled worthlessly just above her shoulders, barely concealing her neck from view _at all_. She couldn't do that again... the Doctor, to her own frustration, was right. The more she 'did' _whatever_ she did, the more she was at risk.

Even the shirt covering her neck wasn't enough to conceal the blue vein glittering under her skin that ascended the column of her neck. "It could pass as a birthmark, I suppose..." she mused to herself grimly, seeing the violence beneath the skin.

She couldn't use it again. She was barely in control of herself... if she was to do it again, she could endanger Martha. She couldn't risk that.

Pulling on her blazer, Amara sighed deeply as she strolled into the console room, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear as she smiled to see Martha clutching the console of the TARDIS while the Doctor ran around it manically, trying to get to all the controls in a frenzied flight.

The Time Lord had her worried as well. Ever since their encounter with the Daleks of Manhattan, he'd been off... just acting strangely and she couldn't help but wonder if Sec had told him something... had told him that – _no_. Sec didn't even know. It wasn't possible. Absurd. Impossible. She wondered if Martha had noticed it, noticed the odd behaviour from him...

Clicking her fingers in amusement, she smiled to herself as she hummed away, "' _On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair_ _... Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air...'_ " Martha glanced around, her ears perking when she saw Amara humming _yet another_ song from Earth, laughing when Amara frowned at the word ' _colitas_ '. "' _Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light..'._ "

"All right there, Glenn Frey?" Martha grinned as Amara nodded, leaning against the gantry.

"Here's a question..." Amara sighed, her eyes trailing over the rotor fondly, eventually falling on Martha, "What are _colitas_?"

Martha shrugged, snorting, "You're asking me because?"

Amara waved her off, jumping forward to turn a control the Doctor had missed, sending him a sheepish smile when he arched a brow at her, "Oh, you uncultured swine..." she frowned at Martha, her gaze playful. "I'm guessing it's like a spliff or something..."

Martha snorted at that, primarily because of the Doctor's horrified expression.

"You've been singing a lot lately," the Doctor commented, looking up at her with a small smile, "I would have never said you were an Eagles fan... Sinatra to the Eagles is a pretty _big_ difference..." he nudged her arm as he danced around her, flicking a lever.

"Come on, you're both doctors!" She rolled her eyes, sagging against the console in disbelief, "Singing exercises your heart, lungs, and releases endorphins which make you _feel_ good!" Amara laughed, pushing herself off of the console, her hair bouncing as the Doctor's eyes fell upon the mark on her neck, his face falling, "It soothes the mind and heals the heart, or hearts in your case," Amara grinned at the Doctor, sighing softly, twirling around in amusement, "Also, I do a pretty mean air guitar as well, but that's for exclusive personnel only."

"No complaints here," Martha chuckled.

"Right then, Saint Martha!" Amara beamed at her, "Harmonise with me... ' _Welcome to the Hotel California_ _, such a lovely place...'_ "

Martha rolled her eyes, feeling slightly idiotic that she was participating in what she thought was Amara's way of making everything seem better than it _actually_ was, "' _Such a lovely place...'_ "

Amara slung an arm over Martha's shoulders as she came to stand beside her, "' _Such a lovely face'_ ," she hummed, swaying slightly. "' _Plenty of room at the Hotel California_ _, any time of year...'"_

"' _Any time of year...'_ " Martha smiled in bemusement.

"' _You can find it.._.'" Amara trailed off in thought when she caught the Doctor staring at her, a deep frown pulling across his brow, "What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, glancing between him and Martha as the other woman tensed under her arm.

Gaping, Martha jumped away from Amara, "What's that on your neck?! Is that because of the gamma strike?" Martha went to touch her neck until Amara dodged her touch, slapping her hand away out of reflex.

"Oh, you're both just two peas in a pod, aren't you?" Amara let out with a small smile before gesturing to her neck, "It'd be pointless to deny it... it's fine, honestly, it always happens when I do it twice in one day. That's why I never do it twice in one day..." she laughed nervously, avoiding both of their gazes, "Takes the wind right out of you, and a ship without sails is no ship at all."

"So, you're saying..." Martha eyed the spirited vein with concern, having never seen anything like it in her medical training, "It could kill you?"

" _Could_ , but it won't." Amara brushed her off, pulling the collar of her blazer up higher to hide her neck.

Moving suddenly, the Doctor grabbed her arm and forced her back, shrugging the collar away as he pulled his glasses on, "You don't know that." His gaze was firm and yet restless as it ghosted over her face, worry lacing his features. "I think Martha's raised a valid point."

"Look, I know you're both worried..." Amara pushed him away by pressing a hand to his forehead, ruffling his hair with a small smile, "But I _need_ you to trust me. Just like you trust one another..." she glanced between the Doctor and Martha, "and just like I trust the _both_ of you."

Martha grabbed Amara's hands, tugging her so she faced her, "We _do_ trust you."

Amara smiled in agreement, "Then believe me when I say I _know_ what I'm doing. I want to help and, y'know, not everyone has a sonic screwdriver hidden up their sleeves..." she glanced back at the Doctor to see a firm frown on his features, "I can't change my genetics. Besides, it means I get to kick some _proper_ arse as well." She grinned when Martha cracked another smile.

The Doctor didn't say anything, merely grumbling as he fiddled with a few switches, moving to hit a lever until Amara beat him, pushing it down softly as the TARDIS fell quiet. He gave her a tight smile before straightening himself and turning to Martha, "There we go… perfect landing, which isn't easy in _such_ a tight spot."

"You should be used to tight spots by now," Martha jested with a laugh, "Where are we?"

"The end of the line," he replied, watching as Martha ran towards the doors, Amara crossing her arms in vexation at his choice, "No place like it."

"All you need is a red pairs of shoes," Amara ground out in irritation, having seen the coordinates on the monitor screen with a glower, turning to face the Doctor swiftly, "Does that make you the tin-man or the cowardly lion? Though, I find myself in the favour of the scarecrow at the moment..."

Gritting his teeth, the Doctor looked down at her, feeling his frustration growing slightly until he realised she was right. It wasn't the best option... "And _what_ does that make you?" he couldn't help but counter, eyeing her furiously.

Amara smirked, "Belinda."

Confused, Martha stared at them both curiously, wondering if she should open the doors when Amara seemed to be hostile. Frowning, she hesitated and made her way outside only to stop in a sharp halt, a sigh of disappointment flooding through her when she saw her bedroom. "Home..." she murmured as the Doctor and Amara followed her out, glancing around, "You took me _home_?"

"No, I think you'll find," Amara sighed, plonking herself down into the nearest chair with a sigh, "The _quack_ brought you home... I _want_ you to stay."

"The morning after we left, so you've only been gone about twelve hours," the Doctor told her, spying the photos aligned on the shelves, ignoring Amara's comments to suppress the guilt that had burrowed itself in his stomach unknowingly. "No time at all, really."

"But all the stuff we've done..." Martha trailed off, feeling an odd twang of betrayal fizzle within her chest as she stood there, helpless to convince him otherwise, "Shakespeare, New New York, old New York…"

"Relatively speaking, all in one night," Amara wove her fingers together as she crossed her legs, eyeing the Doctor with a frown, "The wonders of time and relative dimension in space and all that jazz... buuuzzkill."

"Everything should be just as it was, books, CDs," he picked up some underwear that had been left to dry on a clothes-horse, smiling in amusement, "Laundry…" Martha quickly snatched the piece of clothing dangling off his fingertips and chucked it in the direction of Amara, rousing a laugh from the woman, "So, back were you were, as promised."

" _This is it?_ " Martha pressed, frowning.

She couldn't believe it was actually happening. _After everything!_ He couldn't just dump her like that, it wasn't fair! He _couldn't_! She refused to believe that Amara would let him leave her behind. Amara had told her that she would convince the Doctor otherwise, but there they were... saying _goodbye_. He was literally preparing to walk away from what they'd achieved, from all their adventures...

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, "Yeah, so... we should probably... um..." his voice was interrupted by the sudden ringing of a phone, causing all three of them to glance around.

"Objection."

"Hi!" Martha's warm tones filled the air as the caller was greeted by her answer phone, "I'm out, leave a message!"

"I'm sorry," Martha apologized, a bit embarrassed by the interruption having ruined the seemingly awkward goodbye. She didn't know whether to be grateful or not as the machine chirped away.

"Martha, are you there?" a woman's force called out in desperation, "Pick it up, will you?"

"It's mum," Martha gave a shrug as she rolled her eyes, "It'll wait."

Amara's heart pranged at the voice of the maternal figure, finding discomfort in how distant Martha seemed with her mother when she had been so attached to her own. It was something she never liked to see; for parents to be taken for granted.

"All right then," Martha's mother bristled, "pretend that you're out if you like... I was only calling to say that your sister's on TV, on the news of _all_ things," she sighed in annoyance, "Just thought you might be interested."

At her words, Martha turned sharply to grab the remote to her television, witching it on to see her sister standing in the background behind an elderly man who appeared to be holding a press conference to a crowd of people. " _The details are top secret…_ "

Poising her hands under her chin, Amara lent forwards with frown as she listened to the interview while Martha scoffed, "How could Tish end up on the news?" she asked in disbelief, shaking her head slightly.

" _Tonight, I will demonstrate a device…_ " the man continued to speak.

"Why's she on the news?" Amara asked, tearing her gaze away from the screen.

"She's got a new job," Martha explained, looking back at the pair of them for a split second, "PR for some research lab."

Amara smiled widely, "Now, that sounds fun."

"A slow death sounds fun?"

" _…with the push of a single button, I will change what it means to be human!_ " the man, Lazarus, managed to declare just before Martha switched off the television again, turning to face them.

"Sorry," despite the frown on her face, Martha smiled at the pair of them, though more at Amara than the Doctor, "You were saying we should…"

"Yes, yes, we should," the Doctor nodded, clearing his throat as he shifted, "One trip is what we said."

"Odd... I could've sworn that that _one_ trip turned into _three_?" Amara remarked, her eyes narrowing. "Anyway, one was what _you_ wanted. _You, not we._ " She waved a finger at the Doctor accusingly, "Don't try to shift the blame, you enjoyed yourself but you don't want to admit it, so _fine_."

"Yeah," Martha nodded, seeing little point in arguing when the Doctor seemed to have decided what was going to be despite Amara clearly wanting a different alternative. There was no point. The Doctor didn't want her to be his companion. She didn't need to be told twice. "I suppose things just kind of… _escalated_."

"A regular occurrence it would seem," Amara remarked dryly, wishing he'd treat Martha the way she deserved to be treated.

"Hmm," the Doctor nodded, "Seems to happen to me a lot."

Martha glanced at her, almost defeated, before trying to smile at the Doctor, not wanting to end what had been some of the best moments in life on a sour note. "Thank you. For _everything_."

"It was my pleasure," the Doctor smiled in reply, moving back towards the TARDIS as Amara lingered. "'Mara, come on..." he called after her, disappearing inside.

Conflicted, Amara glanced between the TARDIS and Martha, a sincere expression flooded her face in guilt when she saw the Doctor reappear again, looking impatient. "All you need is faith and trust," she told the other woman, moving forward to hug her firmly, wrapping her arms around her tightly. "We'll be back, don't worry."

Stepping away, she wandered over to the door, reluctant to leave Martha standing there. Biting her lip, Amara stepped into the TARDIS, and moments later the large blue police box faded away as tears stung Martha's eyes.

Shuddering, she sucked in a sharp breath and tried to steady herself. She had been hoped that the Doctor would have kept her around longer, that they would have shared in more adventures... but she was back at home, faced with her boring life as a doctor-in-training.

Finally getting control over herself, she accepted that her time with the Doctor was over, somewhat ready to move on when she heard the familiar whizzing of the TARDIS reached her ears as the box rematerialized.

The door swung open as the Doctor poked his head out, frowning in confusion, "No... I'm sorry, did he say he was going to change what it _means_ to be human?"

Martha watched with wide eyes, at a loss for words as Amara ducked under the Doctor's arm, returning to the flat with a wide grin, "Seems you've been overruled, _Sawbones_."

* * *

Martha grimaced. Of course she'd been invited to Lazarus's experiment that night by Tish. She also knew her mother would most likely be there, another issue she wasn't ready to face. Martha wondered how difficult it would be to sneak the Doctor and Amara in with her.

There was always the psychic paper if everything went pear-shaped.

Amara, to Martha's shock, had managed to convince the Doctor to wear a _different_ suit which _wasn't_ a pinstripe due to the fact that the event was supposed to be marked as "formal". Martha had been surprised when the Doctor had seized all arguments and fled to find a suitable suit for the occasion.

"Martha, your taste in music is brilliant," Amara marvelled as she flicked through the rows of CDs, grinning at the sight, "Eurasia... Fleetwood Mac... Bowie..."

"You like Eurasia?"

"' _I try to discover, a little something to make me sweeter_ '," Amara smiled widely, wagging her brows in amusement as Martha set her shoes on the sofa, shaking her head, "I like music... can't I just wear trousers and a nice top?" she turned and frowned at the dress Martha had presented her with.

"It's formal," Martha waved the dress at her and she bristled, reluctantly taking the dress from her to go change.

It went silent for a moment until a bang sounded, followed by a groan from Amara at its appearance. Obviously, the Doctor was ready and to pass the time, he'd chosen to tinker around in the TARDIS without having had the experience of working on as many TARDISes as Amara had in her youth.

Returning to her seat, Amara waited for Martha to finish getting ready, frowning as she noticed the rigid body language, "What's the matter?" she asked, tilting her head.

"It's nothing, honestly," Martha sighed, turning to face Amara, "It's just, I thought he'd want me around longer than this... I thought, that after everything, we'd travel more together..."

"He'll come around," Amara reassured her, ruffling her hair slightly, "We're a dream team; you're the pixie dust to our faith and trust."

Martha smiled at her words, brightening instantly, "You think he'll change his mind?"

Amara nodded, "I'll give him what for if he doesn't," she told her firmly, seeing her friend smile more, "Besides, I can't let you go until I've told you the truth. You deserve that much, Martha."

"So, you are planning to tell me?" Martha asked hopefully, "I won't be kept in the dark forever?"

"Of course," Amara rose to her feet, placing a reassuring hand on Martha's arm, "He just can't be there when I do. However, whatever happens... you _mustn't_ let me do that again, Martha." She gestured to her neck with a wince, "You've got to _stop_ me."

"But you use it for good, don't you?" Martha frowned.

Amara stepped away from Martha, sighing, "That's _not_ the point... I shouldn't be using it, it's unnatural. It won't kill me, so don't worry about that..." she didn't want to fuel the normality that would surface with its regular usage. She didn't want it. "I panic and don't see another option, I just- "

"So, are you like Electro or something?" Martha smiled when she saw the perplexed look on Amara's face, "My brother, Leo... he used to have these comics, and well, there were some characters that could manipulate electricity," she didn't expect Amara to know what she was going on about, she wasn't entirely sure if people from the future even read comic books anymore. "Like Thor but _without_ the hammer!"

"Norse mythology," Amara remarked wistfully, "Martha Jones, you are something else."

"So are you apparently," Martha countered with a grin.

"Oh absolutely," Amara acknowledged, not even bothering to dodge the question like she might have elected to do when they'd first met, "Wonderfully inhumanly different..."

Freezing, Martha's hands fell from her hair to hang limply at her side. _Did she just..._ her brows knitted together in confusion as she tried to comprehend if she'd heard her correctly. "You're not... _human_?"

"Sumptuous."

Frowning, Martha spun around and stared at Amara incredulously, wondering what on Earth she was going on about – she'd just admitted to _not_ being human like she'd told the Doctor she was. "What?" she found herself feeling slightly lost.

Amara smirked to herself, "Purple suits you perfectly." She gestured to Martha's dress and grinned before glancing down at herself, "I, however, feel as if I've been tricked, by the way... dresses aren't really my thing, the hems get in the way, they have a mind of their own- "

"'Mara, you look lovely." Martha interrupted with a roll of her eyes.

Ignoring the compliment at first, she continued to fuss over the dress, not feeling entirely comfortable with the foreign attire. "I think it might be too short, y'know, but- what did you say?" Amara's eyes bulged as she fiddled with the hem of the dress, grimacing at its length.

Martha laughed, "I said you look lovely. Smart and elegant... _chic_."

"Le freak," Amara replied smoothly, tucking loose strands of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear. "Did you know that in the Bible, Martha had a sister called Mary?"

Martha smiled confusedly, not really understanding what she was talking about. "Uh, no, can't say I did..."

"Well, the funny thing is Amara is a form of Mary."

Martha smiled in amusement as Amara flashed another grin, "So, we're part of some sisterhood?" Martha watched Amara carefully, finding it rather amusing that the woman was so invested in making her belong.

"Don't be ridiculous," Amara snorted, "You make it sound like a cult... I was merely stating that you're special, Martha Jones and with special, comes the extraordinary."

Martha blushed at the comment, "'Cos, I'm your pixie dust."

" _'Think of a wonderful thought_ _, any merry little thought...'_ " Amara hummed, hoping that the Doctor would change his mind and see sense, allow Martha to stay longer and treat like she deserved to be treated, " _'Think of Christmas, think of snow, think of sleigh bells off you go!'_ "

Martha stared at Amara as the woman hummed along to the " _Peter Pan"_ contently, bobbing her head in amusement as she pulled on her boots, wondering why she was ruining the outfit with her normal boots. She'd ask her. "Why are you so good at this?"

Wriggling her foot in her boots, Amara glanced up at Martha, frowning. "At what?" she'd be damned if she wore bloody heels.

"Making people happy," Martha told her.

"You know what they say, making one person smile can change the world..." she shrugged at the statement before she amended: "Not the _entire_ world, obviously, but their world at least. It's always worth it."

Martha couldn't help but hope she got to stay them, that she got to stay a little longer with the woman who had appraised both her and the Doctor with nicknames, who made her feel as though she belonged... she had to hope. "You really love it, don't you?"

"To find self-happiness is to create it for others. It makes me happy knowing that you're happy – that's my job. It's my job to protect your happiness," Amara straightened and brushed out the dress with her hands, " _'Think of the happiest things_ _. It's the same as having wings, take the path that moonbeams make...'_ " she held out her hands and twirled around, laughing. She understood why to believe in faith and trust was so important.

"Keep singing Disney songs and I'll be forever happy."

Amara smiled at her before her eyes trailed to the family photos the Doctor had been inspecting earlier, "Good... so, is this your brother Leo? And this is Tish? You look alike. I wish I had siblings, you know..." she found the pictures marking their young life precious and she envied them, "Someone to share childhood with, it must have been- "

Staggering out of the door, the Doctor wrestled with his tie, biting his tongue as he fussed to straighten it, "You do realise we're gonna be late if you two don't- " he trailed off when he glanced up to Amara stood inspecting Martha's photos, his hands falling in mid-action.

He swallowed.

Martha had dressed her in a formal dress, from what he could tell. Resting above her knees, the dress hung in an onyx shade, chiffon from the looks of it. At least he thought so, slightly worrying himself that he was somehow suddenly a dress specialist... his eyes widened still when he saw the deep V-neck on her chest, descending to rest between her breasts, the straps gliding over her shoulders, entwined with a champagne lace much like the hem.

Her hair was simple, as it always was, it fell in waves around the shape of her face, several strands tucked behind an ear while the top layers had been pulled back, twisted and held together with a few pins.

He silently cursed Martha. He cursed Tallulah for putting the idea in her head... but the dress, _undeniably_ , fitted her impeccably and clung to her body, showcasing the curves in all the right places as it struck him that he'd never seen Amara wear anything close to a dress since having met her.

Allowing her eyes to trail down her legs, _long_ legs, the corner's of his eyes crease when he saw she still wore her boots. _A comfort_ , he told himself. "You look..." his mouth fell agape, a loss for words stunning him as he stared her, watching. Allured. Captured. Enticed.

"Yeah, I know," Amara gestured to the boots on her feet, "Heels are a big no-no for me. I'm going for eccentric."

"I was going to say..."

"What?" Amara contested, intrigued, "Foxy? Spunky? Tasty?"

The Doctor flushed, "No, I was going to say alluring... but if you want," the Doctor gulped, shaking his head slightly when he caught himself, his eyes widening further still at the look that was sent his way. "I, mean, you've pulled off the look you were going for... definitely... _absolutely_."

Amara nodded, smiling softly at him, glancing over at Martha with a smile, "Martha's wonderful, isn't she?"

Blinking, he followed her gaze and looked at her to find her dress in a chiffon violet, knee length dress with a V-neck, her hair unusually straightened and perfectly done. "'Mara's right; you look wonderful, Martha." He managed, though his wondered back over to Amara again.

"You scrub up well," Amara commented with a grin before looping an arm through Martha's, "You're right though; we'll be late if we don't leave now, so... off we fly!"

The Doctor nodded mutely, moving towards the door before he frowned when the two women laughed, " _Fl_ y?"

" _'All you need is faith and trust,'_ " Amara sung as she tugged Martha towards the door, the Doctor dithering after them, shaking himself free as they wandered out onto the street.

" _'And something I forgot_ ,'" Martha chimed in with a soft smile, finding that Amara reminded her of a childhood friend she should've had but never got the chance to meet. " _'Dust!_ '"

* * *

Gibbering away to herself, Martha allowed herself to be led along by Amara who seemed to be having a one-sided conversation about how she planned to pass of as a Cardiothoracic doctor if she was asked any questions. Martha was too distracted by the Doctor to give the woman much thought.

It was hilarious to see the Doctor looking so flustered and at a loss of where to put his eyes, and how to keep them fixed straight ahead of him. She wondered if it was because the dress Amara was wearing _lacked_ a back and revealed a generous amount of skin. He'd stared, mouth agape with slightly wider eyes than usual... only looking away when once he'd caught her catch his eye, growing flustered.

She wondered if it was wrong of her to root for them; to root for something to develop between them seeing as the Doctor barely looked at her.

Martha eyed him as his eyes remained glued to Amara's back, his eyes traced over the panels of muscles beneath the screen, roaming over scarce freckles and moles...

"Will you stop that?" Amara slapped his hands away from the cuffs as he continued to fuss over them for the hundredth time since having left Martha's flat. "Are you all right?" she looked up at him, slightly intrigued as to why he seemed to be acting so... oddly. More oddly than usual.

He blinked at her, licking his lips before managing a nod, "Fine, perfectly fine..." his voice was uncharacteristically hoarse and he cleared it, ignoring the raised brow Amara sent him, "Tickety-boo. _Hakuna_ _matata_. I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" he glanced between both women to see them staring at him with more concern than interest. Looking down at himself, he sighed, "It's just... black tie..." he muttered, "Whenever I wear this, something bad _always_ happens."

Amara frowned, pausing as she glanced over her shoulder at him, "It's not a tie, though is it? It's a bow-tie," the Time Lord suited a tie much better, she smiled at the look on his face, "If you're uncomfortable, go and change..." she suggested with a wave of her hand, earning her a glare from Martha.

"No, no. C'mon, it's _not_ the outfit," Martha commented, catching the Doctor sneaking at glance Amara instead of the cuffs he was pretending to occupy himself with. "That's just you."

Glancing around, the Doctor sighed, his eyes wandering down the street left forgotten behind them, "Do we have enough time to spare?" he looked at Martha, "Can't I quickly run back to the TARDIS and- "

Martha stared at him incredulously, not entirely sure if he was joking or not, "Go back to the TARDIS?"

"Who was it moaning about us taking too long?" Amara said in annoyance, walking ahead of them, "Men, or in _your_ case, aliens are such hypocrites."

"No, you can't," Martha decided, moving to following Amara as the Doctor trailed after them with a furrowed brow, "Anyway, I think it suits you... y'know, in a ' _James Bond_ ' sort of way."

"' _James Bond?_ '" he asked with a slight frown, before considering her comment and smiling, " _Really?_ "

"Martha, please don't inflate his ego anymore," Amara rolled her eyes as Martha laughed.

The Doctor's face contorted, "Oi!"

"He's big-headed enough as it is, I mean look at _that_ hair," Amara nodded at him, making Martha snort behind her hand as they continued along.

He ran a hand through his hair, smirking smugly, "You _love_ my hair."

"Conceited. Deluded..." Amara laughed to herself, sending the Time Lord as sideways glance before clearing her throat, "Wait, are you compensating for something?"

Martha roared with laughter when the Doctor almost choked on air, his eyes bulging at her comment. "E-excuse me?" he wasn't entirely sure she was joking or not; she seemed to get enjoyment out of making him panic. It was becoming a normal occurrence for her to tease him, but sometimes, he didn't know how to respond to it.

Amara sent him another eye roll, wondering how an Earth Rose had put up with him when he was so flippant all the time. It was slightly infuriating. "I'm joking, Space Cowboy. Don't give yourself dual heart attacks," she patted his arm softly, hoping that if she could have this effect on him... maybe he could be persuaded to keep Martha.

"I think something might have almost done that already," Martha grinned.

"What?" both Amara and the Doctor rounded on Martha, both wearing narrowed gazes, confused. "Oh, wait... excuse me..." Amara stepped away, pressing a few buttons on the manipulator strapped to her wrist. "He-"

Ragged rasps met her ears as she moved away from the Doctor and Martha, "I found him!" the familiar voice of Toril exclaimed, exhausted and hoarse from the other end.

Amara frowned, not entirely sure why he was contacting her, "Who is the ominous him?"

"Harold Saxon."

She frowned, the name sounding both foreign yet familiar to her ears, "I don't _even_ know who that is... who the hell is that? You can't just mention a random name and expect me to know who it is," he hadn't even informed her of the reasoning for why he was speaking so incoherently, making her worry. It wasn't nice. "Toril, I haven't got the time- "

Toril cut her off hurriedly, "Britain's next Prime Minister by the looks of it. He's _everywhere_ , how haven't you seen him?" he sounded hysterically, as though he was running from something, and that only made her worry grow.

"What are you going on about?" Amara glanced back at the Doctor to see him watching her. She could feel her panic rising within her chest, "Look, I'm a bit busy..."

"He's the one, the Time Lord..." he whispered, making her hearts cease their beating in her chest, "Crap. I've got to go."

She could feel her insides screaming at what she'd just been told, that Toril had found who she'd been seeking... _but how?_ So many questions slithered on her tongue, so many worries and answers needed to be sung. "Toril what's wrong? Toril?" it went silent and she felt tears stinging in her eyes. "Toril!"

Sensing something wasn't quite right, the Doctor halted in his movements, "Oi Scotty, everything all right?!" he called over to Amara, noting how rigid she'd grown and how hunched she'd become. He couldn't help but feel something was desperately wrong.

Amara ignored him, and instead began to press a few buttons, dialling the number of someone she hoped would give her the answers she sought. "Hello, princess..." came the smooth voice of Jack Harkness, his American trill doing little to lessen her worry.

Gritting her teeth, Amara spun around and began to pace, "Toril – where is he? What did he do? What did _you_ do? Why isn't he with you?" she didn't even bother wasting time with pleasantries; she needed to know what Jack had done with Toril, and why he was alone of all things. The man was reckless, impulsive...

"He found the megalomaniac you were looking for, at least he seems to think it's him," Jack's tone of voice made him as equally worried as she was. That was the last thing she needed to hear. Toril had indeed found that Time Lord she'd spent most of her entrapment outside of Gallifrey searching for. "I wasn't convinced, and I tried to talk him out of it, I did. I swear. He wasn't having any of it, though..." Jack continued to ramble away into her ear, and Amara could feel her frustration growing the more Jack danced about the subject.

"And you let him go?!" Amara exclaimed, her anger taking control of all rational thought. "Jack, he's in danger," she implored, her voice breaking slightly. She needed to get Toril back, to make sure he was safe.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," Jack began to apologise profusely, his voice rising until Amara cut off the connection, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, scuffing her boots against the pavement.

The Doctor watched the woman pacing in the distance, seeming to have grown agitated by something, something that seemed to be evidently playing on her mind. "Is she all right?" he asked Martha as they both stood waiting on the steps leading to the laboratories.

"Does she look like it?" Martha sent him a dark look, nudging him forward, "Well, why don't you go and see if she's all right?"

"Why me? Your both in this ' _sisterhood'_ , aren't you?" he countered as Amara turned, beginning to wander back over to them, her face hard and teeth clenched together. "Something's wrong..."

Blinking away the tears, Amara stared when her eyes fell upon the poster billowing in the slight breeze, announcing 'VOTE SAXON' to passers-by.

She clenched her fists, frustrated as she made her way over to where the others were waiting, guilt seeping into her bones. She couldn't protect Toril anymore... the path he'd chosen to walk was one he would have to ascend alone. She'd have to abandon him, and that would forever play on her conscience.

"Everything all right?" Martha asked, though she knew that Amara would lie to her.

Amara sent them both a forced smile, banishing all thoughts of Toril from her mind, "Why wouldn't I be?" she frowned at the pair of them before starting up the steps, "C'mon, we'll be late otherwise."

* * *

Parties and social gatherings were never her thing. Mingling was too dramatic for her taste, pretending to like snobbish people, pretending to act interested in what idiotic lifestyles they had to offer her as a form of entertainment.

Her eyes had wandered to the colossal, white cabinet encased by four sentry-like pillars which had been placed in the centre of the room while the Time Lord was busy occupied with appetizers, a menace in Martha's hands. _It's him... Harold Saxon._

She could hear the haunting echoes of Toril's voice within her mind, summoning the guilt of having left him to handle it alone without the backup and protection he desperately needed. Shaking her head free, Amara smiled as she watched the Doctor.

"Oh, look, they've got nibbles!" he commented with a grin, reaching out and grabbing a handful of appetizers off of a passing waiter's plate, shoving them into his mouth vigorously. "I love nibbles!"

Amara rolled her eyes, "Did anyone ever tell you it's polite to chew with your mouth closed?"

The Doctor scoffed, shoving another into his mouth, "I love nibbles... best thing at a party – but..." he chewed a bit, trying to swallow the contents in his mouth, finding it a struggle to speak properly, "Always take a banana, y'know."

"Oh, please, _please_ , stop talking!" she turned glowered at him when he opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue to wiggle the contents of chewed food in her face, chuckling when Amara recoiled.

"That will never happen," Martha commented with an eye roll, seeing her sister, Tish, approaching them from across the room, " _Ever_."

"Shame." Amara sighed which earned her a playful scowl from the Doctor.

"Hello!" Tish grinned, finally reaching them, clipboard hugged firmly against her chest.

"Tish!" Martha hugged her sister to her tightly.

Once they separated, Tish smiled, "You look great," she remarked, eyeing her sister, "So, what do yo think? Impressive, isn't it?"

"Very."

Tish grinned again: "And two nights out in a row for you, that's dangerously close to a social life."

"If I keep this up, I'll end up in all the gossip columns," Martha remarked with another smile.

"You might, actually," Tish told her, somewhat more serious than before, "Keep an eye out for photographers. And mum, she's coming too, _even_ dragging Leo along with her."

" _Leo_ in _black tie_?" she asked incredulously, her eyes widening, "That I _must_ see," Tish smiled as her eyes found the duo stood beside them, watching silently. Martha caught he sister's eye and smiled, "This is 'Mara and, uh... the Doctor."

"Hello," the Doctor greeted, moving the nibbles into one hand so he could shake Tish's.

Amara smiled, "It's lovely to meet you," she told her warming, shaking Tish's hand once the Doctor was done.

"Are they with you?" Tish frowned as she looked to Martha.

"Yeah," Martha nodded.

"But they're not on the list," Tish glanced at the clipboard in her hand, her eyes ghosting over it briefly as though she was checking, "How did _they_ get in?"

" _They're_ my plus… two?" Martha smiled sheepishly, "Anyway, Amara works with me at the hospital... cardiothoracic surgery is her area."

"All the best organs..." Amara grinned, playing along.

Tish rolled her eyes, "Oh, God."

"So, this Lazarus bloke, he's your boss?" the Doctor interjected, hoping to smoothly change the topic to avoid being thrown out.

Luckily, Tish didn't seem to notice. " _Professor_ Lazarus, yes," she corrected the Doctor, "I'm part of his executive staff."

"She's in the PR department," Martha rolled her eyes, brushing off the job role as though it was nothing.

"I'm _head_ of the PR department, actually."

Martha's eyes widened, "Your joking!"

"Sounds like a bloody good job to me, Martha," Amara commented, seeing Tish smile.

"It is," Tish gave her a wide smile, "I put this whole thing together."

"It looks brilliant," Amara told her, "You've done a brilliant job, Tish."

"I like her," Tish flashed a grin at Martha.

Martha smiled, "Well, get in line..." Martha wondered if Amara was just a naturally likable person – it seemed impossible to dislike her; she was so amiable and compassionate that it was infectious.

"So, in that case," Amara wondered, arching an eyebrow in amusement at the sisters, "do you know what Professor Lazarus is planning to dazzle us with tonight?" she prompted, hoping to get something out of Martha's sister.

Tish looked as though she was about to respond, only for the Doctor to interrupted: "That looks like it might be a sonic micro-field manipulator," he commented, nodding to the cabinet in the centre of the room, still munching on the nibbles.

"He's a science geek," Tish remarked, shaking her head in disbelief, realising it had been coming. She'd thought that Martha had found herself a proper man, though by the look of it, he seemed more interested in Martha's "supposed" colleague, Amara. "I should've known."

"Not just him," Martha sighed, smiling at the pair of them.

Tish laughed good-naturedly before clasping her clipboard against her chest, "Gotta get back to work now, though... so, I'll catch up with you later." she told Martha, moving away, waving as the Doctor frowned.

"Science geek?" the Doctor demanded when she was out of earshot, turning to face Martha, needing to answer the question. He didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. He hoped it wasn't bad. "What does _that_ mean?"

"That you're obsessively enthusiastic about it," Martha answered with a smirk as the Doctor straighten his cuffs smugly, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Oh, please," Amara rolled her eyes, "There's being a _geek_ but then there's you, a _wackadoo_."

Martha snorted, grinning at Amara, "You can't help yourself, can you?"

"What does that mean then?" the Doctor glanced between the two of them, smiling when he saw the fond smile forming on Amara's lips as she looked at Martha, "Is that even English? C'mon, tell me..."

Amara was silent for a few moments, eyeing him carefully as another smile crossed her lips, "It means you're an enigmatic, foxy Space Cowboy."

The Doctor stared at her, his face falling in surprise at her words and wondering if she... if she- no, Martha was attracted to him, she'd made that clear. But Amara, he was sure she was just playful and enjoyed to tease him as often as she was able. "You think I'm foxy?" he grinned at her, grabbing her arm when she tried to turn away from him.

Martha smirked at the display, wondering how long they intended to dance around each other like they seemed to be doing... she couldn't help but think if the Doctor had ever considered a casual relationship because she was certain the Doctor and Amara were well-suited for one another.

"If I recall, you thought I was," she poked his chest once she'd retrieved her wrist from him, glancing over her shoulder at Martha, "Didn't he say that, Martha? I could've sworn- "

The Doctor scoffed, "I did not."

"Hmm," Amara's hands enclosed around his bow-tie, straightening it when seeing as he'd failed to do it himself.

"You think I'm foxy..." the Doctor smiled down at her, leaning forwards her slightly as she concentrated on fixing his bow-tie, "It's the hair, isn't it?" he chuckled, letting her hands straighten him out.

"I don't know about that," Amara sighed, meeting his gaze, "Your hair looks pretty flat to me." Martha's eyes widened when Amara ran a hand through his hair, spiking his mussed her to create volume to his, watching as his cheeks acquired a tinted shade.

"Chill, wackadoodle." Amara smiled, stepping away as he stared after her.

"I really need a man," Martha sighed, causing Amara's head to snap in her direction. "Flirtationship... right _here_ , right _now_. All the bloody time."

"Martha," Amara bit out, wishing she'd just give up with that ridiculous charade.

The Doctor's eyebrows perked at the use of another new word, "And what's a ' _flirtationship?_ '" he looked between Amara and Martha, wondering why they kept things from him.

"Right, well," Martha grinned, nudging Amara's side before wagging her brows at the Doctor, "Basically, you two are involved in this social situation called at ' _flirtationship_ ', which is more than a friendship but _just_ less than a relationship."

Rolling her eyes, Amara ignored the look the Doctor was giving her, "Ridiculous," she brushed it off with a scoff.

"Martha!" an older woman called, walking over to them.

 _Saved by family_ , Amara internally sighed in relief as Martha wheeled around immediately, turning away from her new companions as she spotted her mother, grinning and rushing over to her, throwing her arms around her as though she hadn't seen her in years, "Mum!"

"Oh," her mother hugged her back despite be slightly caught off guard by the gesture, "All right, what's the occasion?" she asked, pulling away.

"What do you mean?" Martha smiled, giving a soft shrug of her shoulders, "I'm just pleased to see you, that's all."

Her mother frowned, "You saw me last night."

"I know," Martha smiled, trying to ignore the fact that the Doctor _had_ explained they hadn't been gone more than twelve hours, "I just… miss you…" she glanced over at her brother, Leo, and grinned. "You're looking good, Leo."

"Yeah," he replied grimly, feeling uncomfortable for being forced to wear such a formal outfit, "If anyone asks me to fetch 'em a drink, I'll swing for 'em."

"You..." Martha's mother's eyes trailed away from her daughter to finally notice the Doctor and Amara, who were both stood rather awkwardly behind Martha, "disappeared last night," she sent Martha a look.

"I... just went home," Martha lied, looking away from her mother.

"On your _own_?"

"No," Martha grabbed Amara's hand and yanked her forwards, the Doctor following. "These are some friends of mine," she introduced, pushing Amara towards her mother, "This is 'Mara and the Doctor."

"Hi," Amara grinned, moving to shake her mother's hand warmly, "Lovely to meet you..."

"Francine."

Amara beamed before she turned to Leo, "You too, Leo."

"Doctor what?" her mother raised an eyebrow as she eyed the Doctor.

"No, it's just the Doctor," Martha informed her, though her mother didn't look convinced in the slightest, "We've all been doing some work together."

"Yeah, alright," the Doctor reached out to shake their hands much like Amara had done. "Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Jones, we've heard a lot about you."

"Have you?" Mrs. Jones asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at the pair of them, "What have you heard, then?"

"I'm envious of Martha's childhood," Amara smiled, recalling how Martha seemed to have had such a brilliant childhood unlike her own which had been oppressive. "I've been moaning about meeting you sooner..."

"That sounds well rehearsed," Francine commented, watching as Amara's face fell entirely. She turned to the Doctor expectantly, "And you?"

"Oh, you know, that you're Martha's mother and… um…" he trailed off, struggling to answer after seeing how easily she'd dealt with Amara even though she _had_ expressed to Martha that she'd wanted to meet her family. "No, actually, that's… that's about it. We haven't had much time to chat, you know, been busy."

Amara rolled her eyes at the choice of his words, "You _never_ asked," she nudged him in the ribs.

"Busy?" she glared at the Doctor, looking between the three of them, evidently not pleased with what she was hearing, "Doing _what_ , exactly?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, struggling for a suitable answer, "Oh, you know... _stuff_..." he sighed, closing his eyes in thought.

"Not helping," Amara muttered, trying to hold in her laughter as she wrapped an arm around his forearm, hoping to settle Francine's concerns if she thought the Doctor and herself were involved rather than Martha.

Martha looked to her friend, seeing her attempting to stifle her laughter, "You're loving this..."

"I love seeing our wackadoodle squirm."

Martha grinned when she saw the Doctor turn away from her mother, his hand resting on the small of Amara's back, seeming to calm himself down somewhat. She was going to root for them; Amara was good for him. And he needed someone like that to offer him the constancy he needed.

What surprised her more was that Amara didn't move to pull away, instead, she remained with his hand still touching her and it made Martha smile widely.

Amara went to say something when a sudden tapping on a glass drew everyone's attention to the centre of the room where the white cabinet stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Professor Lazarus announced, continuing to tap on the glass to get the entire room's attention, "I am Professor Richard Lazarus and tonight, I'm going to perform a miracle. It is, I believe, the most important advance since Rutherford split the atom, the biggest leap since Armstrong stood on the moon. Tonight, you will watch and wonder... tomorrow, you'll awake to a world which will be changed _forever_."

At that, he turned around and entered the cabinet, the door sliding shut behind him as two female technicians began to start the gallery of machines off to the side.

When a high-pitched whir erupted into the air, a shocking blue light began to emit from the pillars as they erratically spun around the cabinet, the crowd having gathered were forced to cover their eyes from the light created by the energy field. The speed increased as they continued to spin, gaining momentum until a warning noise trilled.

"Something's wrong," Amara exclaimed, glancing at the Doctor quickly, "It's overloading!"

Trying their best but failing, the technicians attempts to stop it but a few panels emitted sparks, exploding which forced the Doctor into action; he ran forwards, jumping over the desk and whipping out his screwdriver, drawing it over the controls as Amara skidded over to the nearest computer screen, hoping that there was some possibility to manually override the command system in order to shut it down.

"Somebody stop them!" Lazarus's partner cried in outrage, "Get them away from those controls!"

"If this thing goes off, it'll take the whole building with it!" the Doctor hollered, "Is that what you want?" he could feel his hearts thumping in his chest, trying the sonic screwdriver again while the computer screen Amara had been trying died, a black screen greeting her.

"Damn..." glancing over her shoulder, she sighed, "Pull the wires!" she nodded to the main where there were linked up to the cabinet, gesturing for the Doctor to listen to her.

Reaching the main wires, he yanked them down and soon enough, the cabinet slowly stopped spinning as the energy field dissipated, evaporating from view.

Jumping up, Martha ran over to the door as the Doctor jumped over the table, grabbing Amara to pull her along with to join Martha, not wanting her to do anything stupid. "Get it open!" he shouted as Martha pulled the door open to reveal a cloud of smoke, followed by a much younger Lazarus emerging.

At his appearance, photographers began snapping away as Martha's eyes widened, the Doctor stepping away in surprise while Amara stared in horror, knowing that something had occurred within the machine, a fault, which meant that something which was wrong with the _new_ man who stood before them.

Caressing his own face, Lazarus's eyes widened in realisation of the success of his experiment, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am Richard Lazarus!" he exclaimed, smiling to himself, "I am seventy-six years old and I am reborn!" he held out his hands in triumph as the crowd began to applaud his success.

"What the hell has he done..." Amara breathed, unable to take her eyes off of the man, trying to figure out why the machine had developed a fault... unless, Lazarus missed something and...

* * *

She couldn't believe people _actually_ formed an orderly line for the opportunity to have a photograph taken with Lazarus. The man had altered his DNA in order to rewrite his own biological timeline... nothing good would ever come of that.

Amara couldn't take her eyes off him as the Doctor examined the cabinet, she expected for something to happen – for a side-effect to emerge due to dormant genes that had been forgotten until his ' _rebirth_ '.

"It _can't_ be the same guy," Martha reasoned, hardly able to believe what she was seeing, "It's impossible... it _must_ be a trick."

"Oh, it's not a trick," the Doctor sighed, flashing the sonic around a bit, trying to get a clear reading, "I wish it were."

"What just happened, then?" she turned to look at him, Amara's attention still focused on the younger Lazarus, her eyes glued to his lean figure.

"He just changed what it means to be human," the Doctor ground out, feeling slightly unsettled that the man had done the impossible, feeling an underlying tension... that something had gone wrong.

Amara watched as the new man smirked, surrounded by flocks of women, "No, he's become a monster..." she refused to believe that _that_ was what evolution was supposed to be like.

Martha frowned at her, "What'd you mean?"

"Think about it, Martha," Amara sighed, turning to face them, "He's changed his DNA, and well, if his DNA was human to begin with... it overloaded, which means something went wrong," she glanced back at the younger Lazarus devouring a plate of appetizers, "And if it had been human, what is it now?"

"What'd you mean?" Martha repeated, slightly annoyed.

Amara shrugged, eyeing how quickly Lazarus was scoffing down the food, "Who's to say he's still solely human?"

"Let's find out," the Doctor strode over to the younger man, Amara and Martha trailing behind him as they approached Lazarus, the Doctor noticing Amara reluctance by the horror still evident on her face.

"I'm _famished_!"

"Energy deficit," the Doctor remarked softly, nodding towards the tray of food, tempted to steal some from it. "Always happens with this kind of process."

Lazarus turned to look at the foreign voice, smiling curtly at the Doctor. "You speak as if you see this every day, Mr..."

"Doctor... and, well, no, not _every day_ , but I have _some_ experience in this kind of transformation."

Lazarus shook his head in disagreement, "That's _not_ possible."

"Using hypersonic sound waves to create a state of resonance," the Doctor replied, apparently unable to help himself, wanting to prove to Lazarus that he had the adequate knowledge. "That's… that's _inspired_."

"You understand the theory, then?" Lazarus merely arched a brow.

"Enough to know that you couldn't possibly have allowed for all the variables," the Doctor challenged, his eyes stern as he held the other man's gaze firmly.

"No experiment is entirely without risk," Lazarus shrugged off the Doctor's evident concern.

"You're joking?" Amara scoffed in outrage, "I find it odd that for a _professor_ , you refuse to acknowledge that your invention _nearly_ exploded," she glared at him, annoyed tat he would easily risked the lives of all those around with such little considered for their safety. "You might as well as have stepped into a blender and to think, you could have risked the lives of everyone here."

"You're not qualified to comment," his partner remarked snobbishly.

Amara glowered, "I'll give you bloody qualified..."

"If we hadn't stopped it... it would have _exploded_ ," the Doctor glared at the woman, a flash of protectiveness rising in him, finding he didn't like the tone she'd taken with Amara at all. His brow deepened. He didn't like it one bit. How dare she suggest they weren't qualified... they'd both known something was wrong and had helped to shut it down before it would too late.

"Then I thank you, Doctor," Lazarus nodded to the Time Lord before his eyes settled upon Amara, a crude smile forming upon his lips, "And you, alluring lady... for your intervention. However, it was nothing but a simple engineering issue. What happened inside the capsule was exactly what was _supposed_ to happen..." Lazarus shrugged, smirking, "No more, no less."

"You've no way of _knowing_ that until you've run proper tests," Martha challenged him, shaking her head at him. It was wrong, _so wrong..._

Lazarus merely chuckled, holding out his hands, "Look at me! You can see what happened. I'm _all_ the proof you need."

"This device will be properly certified _before_ we start to operate commercially," his partner added, sounding as though she was trying to reassure them. It did anything but that.

Amara stared at the pair of them incredulously, "Bollocks."

"Commercially?" Martha's eyes widened, gaping at the pair of them, "You are _joking_... that'll cause chaos."

"Not chaos," Lazarus smiled as he shook his head, " _Change_. A chance for humanity to evolve, to improve."

"Why won't you snobs understand when too much money is _too much money_?" Amara hissed, glowering at the pair of them, moving forwards until she stood but mere inches from Lazarus, staring him down. "That's the thing with _humans_ , isn't it? You're too bloody gluttonous to dive a damn, unless there's some profit to be made," she spat through gritted teeth, glaring at Lazarus, "Leeches."

Martha eyed Amara, wondering if the Doctor was catch on to what she'd just said, wondering if he'd question her reasoning like she wanted to right then and there.

Instead, the Doctor pulled Amara back to tug her behind him securely, "This isn't about improving," the Doctor frowned, his hold tightening around Amara's arm, "It's about you and your customers living a little longer."

"Not a little longer, Doctor," Lazarus shook his head at the pair of them, his smirk never faltering for a single moment, "A lot longer... perhaps _indefinitely_."

"Does that Ph.D actually stand for anything or is it purely decorative?" Amara quizzed furiously, tilting her head, "Humans will _never_ be able to evolve if they keep resetting themselves to what they once were, that's something the known world classifies as devolution."

Lazarus stared down his nose at her, "Your point being?" his patience was being tested by an insufferable triplet of nobodies.

"You're wrong," Amara argued, fully prepared for a battle of wits, "I don't need some Ph.D to see that."

"Luckily for you, my dear, I doubt you'll ever get one."

Amara moved forwards only for the Doctor to pull her flush against him, holding her back, worried that she would make a scene due to Lazarus's insolence.

"Richard, we have things to discuss," his partner reminded suddenly, glaring at the three of them before moving away, "Upstairs..."

Moving to follow her, Lazarus paused and turned back to address to the trio once more, "Goodbye, Doctor... ladies," he smirked at Amara, "In a few years, you'll look back and laugh at how wrong you were," unexpectedly, he reached out and took Martha's hand, kissing the back of it before he left.

Scratching the back of her neck, Amara glowered at Lazarus's retreating form, "He has no idea of the damage he's done."

"He's out of his depth," the Doctor sighed.

"So, what do we do now?" Martha turned to face them.

"Now…" the Doctor glanced around with interest, "Well, this building must be full of laboratories," he remarked thoughtfully, "I say we do our _own_ tests."

Martha smiled suddenly, "Lucky I've just collected a DNA sample then, isn't it?" she lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers playfully as Amara grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulder.

"Oh, Martha Jones, you're a star," the Doctor smiled at her fondly.

Amara peered at him, linking arms with Martha as she grinned, "Can't we keep our star?"

* * *

Approaching Amara as she stood off to the side, Martha cleared her throat, hoping to prompt her to divulging more information. "What you said about humans..." she trailed off, glancing over her shoulder at the Doctor as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Martha, take no notice of it," Amara sent her a small smile, rubbing her arm in reassurance, "Lazarus falls into a particular category of human: you are nothing like him." she didn't want Martha thinking any less of herself, she couldn't bear for that...

"But you're not human..." Martha persisted in a whisper.

"Then you best keep it to yourself, Jones."

Seeing the results of Lazarus's DNA file through on the computer screen, Amara pulled Martha over to it, eyeing the screen in amazement, "Ka-chow..." she breathed, not entirely sure if she should be impressed or horrified by what she was seeing.

"Amazing," the Doctor gaped.

Martha glanced between them, "What?"

"Lazarus's DNA."

"I can't see anything different," Martha frowned as she continued to look at the screen.

"Look at it!" the Doctor pointed enthusiastically as the screen flickered, changes finally resurfacing on the DNA.

"Oh, my God!" Martha gasped, her eyes widening as she leaned towards the screen, "Did that just _change_? But it _can't_ have!"

"You better tell those molecular patterns that," Amara gestured to the screen, "Because it just _did_."

"It's _impossible_!"

"And that's two impossible things we've seen tonight," the Doctor grinned at Martha, finding that having allowed Amara to convince him to stay for a bit was the right thing to do. "Don't you love it when that happens?"

"That means Lazarus has changed his own molecular patterns."

"Hypersonic sound waves to destabilize the cell structure then a mutagenic program to manipulate the coding in the protein strands..." the Doctor explained, trailing off when he saw both women eyeing him, though Amara seemed more amused. "Basically, he hacked into his own genes and instructed them to rejuvenate."

"But they're _still_ mutating now," Martha shook her head, seeing the molecular pattern change _again_.

"'Cos he missed something," the Doctor sighed.

"Yowza," Amara breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose, " _Professor_ Lazarus seems to have activated something in his molecular pattern which won't allow him to stabilise," she sighed, clenching her jaw, "Something's trying to _change_ him."

"Change him into _what_?"

"I dunno but I think we need to find out," the Doctor backed away, tucking away his specs.

"That woman said they were going upstairs," Martha frowned in thought.

Wheeling around on her heels as she propelled herself forwards, Amara started towards the door with a grin, "Allons-y!" she exclaimed, not missing the hurtful expression of the Doctor's face.

"Oi, that's my line!" he accused, moving to dash after her.

Amara rolled her eyes, "Whatever, wackadoodle."

* * *

Stepping out of the lift, Amara glanced around the darkened room, seeing no obvious figures looming before them as they entered the office. As Amara wandered in, the Doctor flicked on the lights, "This is his office, all right," she affirmed with a quick glance around her.

"So, where is he?" the Doctor pressed with a frown.

Martha shrugged, "Dunno."

"I feel like I belong in Scooby Doo or something..." Amara could feel something rising within the pit of her stomach, a warming sign that something was definitely wrong. "Zoinks and all that jazz."

The Doctor sent her a grin, "Jinkies," he chuckled when she gave him a high five, finding himself growing more and more attached to their easy banter.

Martha shook her head, lost, "Right, well, let's try back at the re... ception..." she trailed off, spotting something poking out from behind the confines of the desk as a horrified expression crossed Amara's face in an instant. Instinctively, she rushed towards it and gaped when she saw skeletal bones, wearing heels, followed by what remained of Lazarus's partner. "Is that Lady Thaw?" Martha gasped as the Doctor walked over, gaping at the body.

Amara felt like gagging at the sight of the dried remains... she'd never liked death, anything to do with death disconcerted her immensely. Ever since Rassilon had decimated Gallifrey along with the Daleks, she'd never been fond of the process. Skeletons freaked her out, limp and forgotten in the past.

"Used to be," the Doctor replied grimly as he knelt down beside the remains of Lady Thaw, "Now it's just a shell... had all the life energy drained out, like squeezing the juice out of an orange."

Amara screwed her face up in disgust, "Great, now I'm never drinking orange juice again," she grimaced at him.

"Lazarus," Martha breathed.

"Undoubtedly," Amara agreed with a firm nod.

"So he's changed already?" Martha asked, getting worried.

"We all saw that DNA, Martha," Amara sighed, wondering what on Earth Lazarus had become, "His molecular pattern was fluctuating."

The Doctor nodded, "The process must demand energy... this might not have been enough."

Martha's eyes widened in fright, "So he might do this again?"

Amara blinked, feeling the horror rising within her once more, "Oh, absolutely," once he'd started, Lazarus would never be able to stop.

Rushing back towards the lift, it didn't take the trio long to reach the reception once again, Martha's panic beginning to get the better of her, wanting to warn people so they could get out safely.

Pushing through the gathered crowds, Amara glanced around frantically as she tried to locate Lazarus, worrying when he was absolutely _nowhere_ to be seen. "I can't see his arrogant arse anywhere," Amara bit out, her eyes erratic.

"I can't see him," Martha cried, growing more and more frantic with each passing more, her eyes scanning the room for the man in question.

"He can't be far," the Doctor replied, looking around to see Amara furiously shoving people out of the way, climbing atop a table to scan the reception properly, "Keep looking."

Clambering up onto a table, Amara spun around, eyes narrowing as she _tried_ to locate Lazarus. The arrogant blonde haired sod was nowhere, absolutely nowhere. Vanished from the room... as was Tish? _Tish!_

The Doctor wandered off, noticing the alarmed look on Amara's face as she leapt from the table, rushing over to Martha in an instant, dodging the crowds. "Martha!"

Despite hearing her name being called, Martha found her way over to her brother, "Hey, you alright, Marth?" Leo asked, seeing Martha looking flustered, panicked, "I think... mum _wants_ to talk to you."

"Have you see Lazarus anywhere?" she asked him, watching as Amara bounded over, looking hysteric.

"Yeah," Leo nodded in confirmation, "He was getting cosy with Tish a couple of minutes ago."

"With Tish?!"

"Tish isn't here," Amara breathed, reaching them, the Doctor rushed into the back of her, grabbing her arms to poise himself.

"Ah, Doctor," Mrs. Jones called, immediately moving towards the small group with intent that put Amara on edge.

"Leo," Amara stared at him with wide eyes, "Did you see where they went?"

"Where did they go?" the Doctor demanded, ignoring Mrs. Jones to fight for Leo's attention.

"Upstairs I think, why?" Leo frowned, not quite following.

"Doctor…" Mrs. Jones tried again until the Doctor ignored her, rushing past her, bumping into the woman's arm and spilling her drink all over her but the Doctor ignored her, rushing past her, bumping into the woman's arm, spilling her drink, "I'm _speaking_ to you!" she shouted after him, furious.

Amara glanced over her shoulder as she followed the Doctor, "Sorry, Francine!"

"Not now, mum!" Martha ground out in exasperation, moving to follow Amara as the woman dragged her along after her, leading back to the lift.

When they returned to Lazarus's office, it was desolate and quiet, undisturbed by any other presence but their own. Neither Tish or Lazarus were in sight, and neither had they been there. "Where are they?" Martha spun around, frantically looking for her sister.

"Martha, don't worry, we'll fine her," Amara reassured her, glancing over at the Doctor quickly, "Come on, geeky chic, fluctuating DNA gives off an energy signature," she nodded to his pocket where his sonic screwdriver sat quietly. "You know, you should be able to pick up a trace..."

Grinning at her, the Doctor yanked out the screwdriver and went about setting it, "Brilliant, 'Mara!" he appraised, holding it up as he moved it around the room hurriedly, trying to pick up the signal. He waited a few moments until the signal got stronger, "Got him!"

"Where?" Martha demanded, glancing around once more as the Doctor moved the screwdriver, hovering it below the ceiling where the signal seemed to be at its strongest, "But... this is the top floor!"

"Not if you count the roof," Amara shouted as they all ran towards the stairs which would allow them to ascend into the darkening abyss of the oncoming night.

Together, the crashed out onto the roof to find Lazarus and Tish standing closer to one another more than propriety would warrant from them which made Amara's hearts leapt into her throat, bile rising.

" _'…always something to surprise you,'_ " Lazarus was softly saying to Tish, " _'Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act…'_ "

"'Falls the shadow,'" the Doctor finished wistfully as Lazarus turned to face the trio, a smirk pulling across his lips as he regarded the three of them.

"So, the mysterious Doctor knows his Eliot..." Lazarus mused, tilting his head at the Time Lord, "I'm impressed."

"Martha, what are you _doing_ here?" Tish demanded, embarrassed as she looked between Martha and Amara, wishing they'd all just leave so she could have a _single_ moment with Lazarus. _Just a single moment_.

"Tish, get away from him," Martha warned, her eyes not leaving Lazarus as she tried to convince her sister to come to her side.

"What?" Tish glared at her, frustrated that she was ruining the moment... "Don't _tell_ me what to do."

"Tish, listen to me..." Amara turned her attention to Tish, regretting taking her eyes off of Lazarus for a moment, hoping to plea with Martha's sister to convince her move. "Please, just come over here... Tish, _please_."

Tish frowned, eyeing the woman stood next to sister as she found herself oddly enticed to listen to her, to follow her orders and move away... but the curiosity of not knowing what was occurring bothered her above all else.

"I wouldn't have thought you had _time_ for poetry Lazarus, what with you being busy defying the laws of nature and all," the Doctor remarked, trying to distract Lazarus so Martha could get her sister away from him with Amara's help.

"You're right, Doctor," Lazarus sighed, smiling slightly. "One lifetime's been _too_ short for me to do everything I'd like... how much _more_ would I get done in _two_ or _three_ or _four_?"

"Unfortunately, _Professor_ , it doesn't work like that," Amara told him firmly, pushing Martha behind her slightly, "Some people can live _more_ in twenty years than others do in eighty. It's not the _time_ that matter... it's the _person_."

"But if it's the _right_ person, what a _gift_ that would be," Lazarus countered, smirking menacingly at her, making her shudder as she held his gaze.

The Doctor shook his head pitifully, "Or what a _curse_."

"Look at what you've _done_ to yourself," Amara's brow furrowed as she watched him, her gaze softening at the newly aged man, "Can't you see what you've _done_ to yourself? Can't you see the _monster_ you've created? Buried deep within..."

"Who are _you_ to judge _me_?" Lazarus glowered at her, starting forwards as the Doctor immediately pulled Amara behind him, taking a protective stance.

"Over here, Tish," Martha gestured for her sister to move away from him, her anxiety growing as her heart sped up in her chest.

"You have to spoil _everything_ , don't you?" Tish hissed, marching over to her sister who tried to shield her from Lazarus, " _Every_ time I find someone nice, you have to go and find fault..."

Martha's eyes widened as Lazarus collapsed on the ground, convulsing behind Tish, "Tish, he's a monster!" she implored, gaping at the sight.

"I know the age thing's a bit freak, but it works for Catherine Zeta-Jones," Tish shrugged her off, about to say something else as a growl rippled through the air, drawing her attention. Slowing turning, Tish's eyes widened when she clamped eyes on the monster that had replaced Lazarus.

A colossal, skeletal beast bearing a crazed look within his eyes, hissing and roaring.

Grabbing Amara's hand, the Doctor sprung into action, "RUN!" he exclaimed as the monster reared up at them, ready to attack, yanking Amara towards the door as quickly as he was able.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi!**

 **So, hopefully you're all enjoying the story so far and seem to like its concept - it's always great to hear any feedback on offer from any who wish to let me know what they think!**

 _ **REVIEWS:**_

 **ShadowTeir** \- **_Hi! No, this is your first review, I believe. I'm glad I've been successful enough to craft the dynamic well - it's good to know it's effective. I loved Martha and I wanted to showcase her, and I'm enjoying writing the interactions between them as well. I'm so pleased that you're enjoying the story so far, hopefully you'll drop another review. Thank you!_**

 **chodofaggins** \- **_Hello! Thank you very much for the review; I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I hope you like the update as well!_**

 **Thank you all to the readers; don't for to read and review.**

 **Ezeiel**


	10. IX

Crying, the alarms sounded around them as they raced inside, Lazarus colliding with the door behind them after the Doctor had sealed the lock, Martha and Tish racing ahead to wait for the lift. " _Security breach... security breach!"_ they chirped in outrage, " _Security breach!_ "

"Lift's won't work!" Amara exclaimed, running past them towards the stairwell, "The building's under lockdown!"

"Wha..." Tish gaped as Martha yanked her by the arm suddenly.

"No time for idle chit-chat!" Amara shouted over her shoulder, bursting through the door to begin the descent down the stairs.

"Are you okay?" Martha asked her sister as the Doctor sped past her, following Amara down the stairs in front of them.

"I was gonna snog him…" Tish murmured, utterly horrified by how she'd been _flirting_ with him as well.

"What the hell is happening?" Martha demanded, the lights going out, as they continued down the stairs feverishly.

"Uh, 'Mara was right..." Tish trailed off, stumbled down the stairs slightly, "An intrusion... it's triggered a security lockdown which kills most of the power... stops the lifts, seals off the exits."

As they continued down the stairs, the faint pounding echoed through the air, reaching their ears as Lazarus continued to thump against the sealed door several floors above them. It would only be a matter of time before he broke in.

"He must be breaking through that door," the Doctor guessed over the sonorous echoes of the thumps.

A crash erupted above them, causing Amara to still in her movements, "And now he's inside..."

"Haven't got much time!" the Doctor announced, pressing further as they raced down the last few flights of stairs until they reached the reception where an entirely different chaos was about to ensue.

"Tish," the Doctor turned to face Martha's sister suddenly, sliding to a halt, "Is there another way out of here?"

"There's an exit in the corner," she visibly shook, pointing to the corner in question, "But it'll be locked now."

Sighing, the Doctor tossed his sonic screwdriver to Martha, "Martha, setting fifty-four... hurry!" at the orders, Martha hurried off with Tish as he jumped onto the platform of Lazarus's machine, "Listen to me!" he implored, "You people are in serious danger! You _need_ to get out of here right now!"

"Don't be ridiculous," a snobby woman scoffed in remark, "The biggest danger here is choking on an _olive_."

Glass shattered at her words, revealing the skeletal beast that was Lazarus, coiling as he leapt down onto the floor of the reception, causing commotion as everyone sprung into hysterics while heading for the exits.

"And what an _olive_ that is..." Amara breathed, staring at the beast in horror as people ran about her, wondering what on Earth had possessed him to experiment on himself... her eyes trailed to his machine, lingering for a moment before a thought sprouted within her mind.

"Mum!" Amara heard Leo shouting in the distance, turning to see him trying to pull Francine away from the crowds, "Get back!"

Watching, she saw Lazarus forced a table out of the way, sending it swirling in the direction of Leo. Clenching her jaw, she propelled herself towards the mother and son as the table collided with the electrical field that had fizzled into the air in front of them, causing the table to vibrant and fling off in the opposite direction, the backfire of the reversal causing Leo to be thrown backwards.

"'Mara, dont'!" she could hear the Doctor calling behind her as Francine rushed to Leo's side.

Helping, Amara helped Francine pull Leo to cover behind a collapsed table, attempting to shield them from Lazarus's view as people continued to fret in the frenzied air. "Francine, you've got to get him out of here..." her eyes widened when she saw Lazarus's attention trained upon them, spurring her to her feet immediately.

Moving away from Francine and Leo, Amara held Lazarus's attention as she walked into the centre of the reception, goading him by baiting herself. _Brilliant idea..._ "C'mon then, beastie!" her neck was throbbing with a sudden influx of pain as it rippled through the left side of her body, making her stagger just a little before righting herself.

Eyes widening, the Doctor surged in hysteria when he saw Lazarus nearing Amara who was desperately trying to lead him away from Martha's family. But he didn't want Amara to endanger herself either... he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened. "Lazarus!" the Doctor tried, wanting to lure him away, to make sure she was safe, "Leave her alone!"

Eyeing the ground, Amara's gaze narrowed when she saw a metal railing pole lying lifeless upon the floor like a dead sentry. She scanned the length of it briefly before taking it into her arms, struggling with the unknown weight, moving closer towards Lazarus despite the Doctor's cries somewhere in the distance.

Lazarus scuttled forwards as Amara met him, reeling back as she forced to tip of the pole onto the skeletal chest, gritting her teeth as the static energy rippled along the beam, fizzing before dissipating with Lazarus. The beast wailed in agony, stumbling backwards, crashing over tables as Amara dropped the beam, sagging to her knees, spent.

Her diversion had given Martha time to aid Leo, rushing to his side immediately, "Martha," her mother breathed out, Francine's eyes upon the girl who'd saved her son, her eyes widening at her evident weakened state.

Martha ignored her, focusing on Leo's injury, "C'mon, stay with me," she whispered to her brother, pulling him and her mother away just in case Lazarus turned to attack them again.

"Martha," Francine tried again, nudging her daughter, "Your friend..."

Looking around, Martha's eyes widened when she saw Amara kneeling on the floor, wincing. "'Mara!" she shouted, panicking as the woman sat back on her knees, her chest heaving to compensate for whatever she'd just done.

"Martha, make sure your family's safe!"

The Doctor, however, traipsed over Lazarus's machine, goading him. "What's the point if you can't control it?" he exclaimed, drawing Lazarus to him. "The mutation's too strong... killing those people _won't_ help you. You're a fool, a vain old man who thought he could defy nature. Only nature got her own back, didn't she? You're a _joke_ , Lazarus! A footnote in the history of _failure_!"

Upon finishing, the Doctor hopped down from the machine and sprinted away, an enraged Lazarus bolting after him as he disappeared from sight.

Grappling with the nearest table, Amara climbed to her feet, steadying herself as she made her way over to the machine, cursing the Doctor for his reckless and impulsive streak.

"What's the Doctor doing?" Tish asked as Martha stood, examining the wound on Leo's head carefully, "And 'Mara..."

"He's trying to buy us some time," Martha replied hastily, "Let's not waste it... Leo, look at me. Let me see your eyes," she glanced her mother, her gaze flooding with concern, "He's got concussion, you'll need to help him downstairs," she ran over to an ice bucket, putting some cubes into a napkin. Pressing it to Leo's head, she looked back at the reception, gesturing for her mother to take over, "This'll keep the swelling down. Go! I'll be right behind you! Tish, move! We _need_ to get out of here!"

Martha pushed her family towards the stairs, turning back immediately to run into the reception, kneeling beside Amara who had ripped open a side of panel of the machine, tinkering away inside with the wires.

About to ask what was going on, Martha paused when she noticed something _far_ worse, "Your neck," Martha gasped.

"It was your family, Martha," Amara shrugged it off as a duty; she thought of Martha as family and that meant protecting her family. "It's nothing, just get them out..."

"No, no," Martha shook her head furiously, "Something's wrong, let me examine your..."

"Martha!" Amara ground out, turning to look at her as she spotted the sonic screwdriver in Martha's hand. "Just... try and restore the power, and get everyone out," she nodded to the screwdriver though Martha looked reluctant to leave her, remaining unmoving, "Go on!"

Nudging Martha along, she pushed her back in the direction of the door. Martha hesitated, looking torn for a moment, before rushing back out and into the sea of people, shoving and pushing. She'd go, but she'd come back to help as soon as the crowd had cleared.

She ran down the hall, skidding to a halt as she met the mass of the crowd, striving to get out through the locked main entrance, screaming and shouting in hysterics as they fought one another. "We can't get out!" Tish exclaimed when she saw Martha rushing back over, "We're trapped!"

"There must be an override switch," Martha implored, looking around frantically so she could help all those poor people in the chaotic sea before them, "Where's the security desk? Tish!"

Tish frowned before she pointed to a booth not very far away, "Right there..."

Martha ran over to the desk, sliding over the top to make her way over to the control panel, using the pre-set sonic on it frantically before moments later, the power resumed and the doors swung open.

Rushing back, Martha smiled in relief, "I've got to go back," Martha breathed, watching as the waves of people spilled through the doors, seeing her family was safe.

"You _can't_!" her mother exclaimed in outrage, "You _saw_ what that thing did. It'll _kill_ you."

"I don't _care_... I _have_ to go."

"It's that Doctor, isn't it? And that _girl_!" her mother glared, prepared to fight her if she was to do such a thing, " _That's_ what's happened to you. That's _why_ you've changed."

"He was buying us time, Martha, and 'Mara knows what she's doing," Tish tried to reassure her mother and to persuade Martha otherwise, "Time for you to get out, too."

"It's not _just_ him Mum," Martha challenged, scowling in disbelief, wanting to know when her mother had become so cruel. "'Mara's _still_ in there. I'm _not_ leaving them."

"Martha!" her mother called out, but Martha turned and sped back into the building.

"She saved yours and Leo's life in there!" Martha exclaimed incredulously, picking up speed as she dashed back up the stairs, "She's _my_ friend!"

She _wouldn't_ let anything happen to Amara... she'd _stayed_ with her in New New York and in Old New York, and she knew that Amara wouldn't leave anytime in the future either. She _couldn't_ let anything happen to her.

She was her _friend_.

Martha had _never_ met anyone like her before in her entire life. She knew all the right things to say and do, how to make her smile when she was upset or annoyed... she was _so_ kind and lovely, Martha loved her. She was happy as long as she and the Doctor were. Amara made her feel as though she _belonged_ , she trusted and had _faith_ in her, told she was brilliant and clever... she made her feel _included_ , and made her feel like the _companion_ the Doctor had failed to do so himself.

* * *

Martha was sprinting through the halls, trying to make her way back to the reception until she heard a sudden blast coming from around the nearest corner. Turning, she raced down it and immediately crashed into the Doctor.

Eyes widening, the Doctor stared at her in shock, "What are you doing here?" the Doctor demanded, looking at Martha properly.

"I'm returning this," Martha held up the screwdriver for him to take back from her, "I thought you might need it."

"How did you…" he trailed off in confusion, staring at her in surprise.

"I heard the explosion," Martha told him, "I guessed it was you... I was coming back to look for 'Mara."

"She's still in here?" the Doctor's eyes widened at Martha, his concern for Amara sparking within his gaze as he completely forgot the screwdriver.

"Yeah... she was, uh, doing something to the machine," Martha explained hurriedly, seeing the worried increasing within his eyes as they widened still, "I got everyone out, and was about to come back for her when I heard the explosion... what did you do?"

"I blasted Lazarus."

"Did you kill him?" she asked hopefully, a moment before Lazarus came crashing around the corner, flinging himself down the hall.

"More sort of annoyed him, I'd say," he replied before pulling her down the hall, "Let's get 'Mara and get out of here!"

The pair of them ran back into the reception room, Martha immediately finding Amara hissing as she pulled her hand out of the machine, "'Mara!" she cried, running over to her as she turned her away from the machine, checking her verdant orbs glittered with the presence of blue flecks... more blue than usual.

"'Mara, what are you doing?" the Doctor demanded as Martha pulled Amara into her arms firmly. "Are you all right?"

Amara nodded, "I'm fine," she reassured the both of them, "I had to kick some arse... it's just a strain, nothing more."

The Doctor frowned, squinting at the darkened vein at her neck as her eyes sparkled, seeing its growth in vibrancy which worries him terribly.

"What do we do now?" Martha breathed, looking around, "We've just done round in a circle!"

Lazarus burst through the doors as Amara grabbed them, yanking them towards the machine hastily, "We can't afford to let him get outside... come on, get in," she pushed the pair of them through the narrow door, only just managing to click it shut behind, squeezing them together.

Wincing, Martha tried to turn, "Are we hiding?" Martha frowned as she moved Amara's arm from her back.

"No, he knows we're here," the Doctor told her, which only increased Martha's worry beyond belief, "But this is his masterpiece. I'm betting he won't destroy it, not _even_ to get at us."

"But we're _trapped_!"

The Doctor gave a sheepish shrug of his shoulder, "Well, yeah, that's a slight problem…"

"You mean you _don't_ have a plan?" Martha's eyes widened.

"Chill, Martha," Amara called out softly, "We just need to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow, and Bob's your uncle."

"Oh," the Doctor paused in thought, his mouth falling agape as he considered what Amara had told them, his eyes widening as a grin crossed his face, wide and electric. "Oh, brilliant!" snaking a hand into his jacket, he withdrew his sonic.

"Hey!" Martha cried out when he almost elbowed her.

"Sorry!"

Martha frowned, "What're you gonna do with _that_?"

Sliding down to the floor, he popped open the panel and began to fiddle as Martha stared down at him. "I still don't understand where that thing came from," Martha spoke, shifting to allow the Doctor more room, "Is it alien?"

"No, for once it's _strictly_ human in origin," the Doctor told her, fiddling with some wires.

"Human?" Martha gaped, not sure if she'd heard correctly, "How can it be _human_?"

"Well," Amara gave sigh in thought, "When Lazarus changed his DNA, the energy field in whatever the hell that thing is, obviously reactivated dormant genes which means they're becoming dominant."

"It's a throwback," the Doctor agreed, "Some option that evolution rejected millions of years ago, but the potential was still locked in the genes," he continued quite contently, "Until Lazarus unlocked it by mistake."

"So, it's, uh, like Pandora's box," Martha frowned.

"Exactly... nice shoes, by the way," the Doctor glanced up at Martha before turning his attention back to his fiddling, his eyes catching Amara's legs which were positioned very, _very_ close to his face that it made his mouth run dry. He hadn't realised how short her dress _actually_ was, his eyes sliding up to see the skin lurking above the knees.

"So," Amara cleared her throat, "The knee joint joins the thigh with leg... apparently, it consists of two articulations: one between the femur and patella... and I believe the other between the femur and tibia which is known as the tibiofemoral joint," she looked over at Martha, "Is that right?"

"Uh, yeah," Martha laughed breathlessly, "So, what's the plan?"

The Doctor shook his head, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he swallowed thickly, his eyes scanning across the warm flesh mere inches from him as Martha smirked.

"You're gonna love this."

A blue shimmer glowed around them as the machine started up, shaking Martha, "What's happening?"

"He's switched the machine on!" the Doctor exclaimed, looking up at Amara who shrugged.

"That's _not_ good, is it?" Martha looked between the two of them, feeling her panic rising once more, "Is that _part_ of the plan?"

"Well, I was hoping it was gonna take him a little bit longer to work that out," he let out as the machine started to spin around them.

"I don't want to hurry you, but..." Martha wheezed in a hushed tone.

Amara grinned, "This is where it gets exciting."

"I know, I know," the Doctor sighed, his hands working away as quickly as he was able.

"Tick tock goes the clock," Amara hummed, earning a glare from Amara.

"Nearly done."

"What're you doin'?" Martha demanded, not even sure what was going on.

"Trying to set the capsule to reflect energy rather than receive it," the Doctor looked up at Amara, "Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow."

"You only need to sonic it in a few places, Space Cowboy," Amara told him with an eye roll, bracing herself against the body of the machine as it continued to spin. "I did half of the work for you,"

"Will that kill him?"

"When he transforms, he's three times his size, cellular triplication, so he's spreading himself thin," the Doctor explained in a murmur, seeming lost in thought.

"We're gonna end up like him!"

Amara sighed, reaching out to squeeze Martha's hand, " _Faith_ and _trust_ , Martha Jones."

"Just one more..." the Doctor yanked on a wire and the energy field shifted suddenly, shifting as it fled from the machine.

Jolting, Amara looked down when the Doctor wrapped a hand around her calf, warm and scorching as he pulled himself up again, squeezing as he rose to his full height. His hand brushed hers and he smiled at her.

I thought we were gonna go through the blender then," Martha gave a sigh of relief as the Doctor opened the door cautiously, helping Amara and herself out.

"Really shouldn't take that long just to reverse the polarity," he glanced around for any sign of Lazarus; had he escaped; was he hiding or had he been struck by the reversed energy field? He had not idea in the slightest. "I must be a bit out of practice."

"Damn..." Amara frowned, rubbing the back of her neck in frustration as she stared sadly at the body belonging to Lazarus.

The Doctor turned around and followed Amara's gaze to see the man in question. There he was, Lazarus, lying very humanly naked before them on the floor.

"He seems so…" Martha sighed, moving to kneel beside the body as regret swarmed her gaze, "Human... again, it's kind of pitiful."

"Eliot saw that, too," the Doctor commented, staring down at the man. " _'This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with a whimper.'_ "

Grabbing a table cloth, Amara's clenched her jaw before draping the cloth over Lazarus's prone form, stepping away to allow the man some dignity despite all the monstrosity he'd caused in a mere couple of hours.

* * *

Lazarus's body had been retrieved by emergency services, concealed in a body bag upon a gurney as the trio stood watching from the steps just outside the labs. Amara couldn't help but feel something was amiss. She couldn't help but feel something was terribly wrong.

"She's here!" someone called in the distance as the three of them looked up to see Tish running over to Martha before sweeping her up into her arms, "Oh, she's all right."

"Careful," Amara warned as Francine stormed over to where they stood, a dark looked crossing her face, "She's on a mission..."

"Yeah..." he trailed off, having a feeling he knew what was going to happen next. "Ah, Mrs. Jones, we still haven't finished our chat," the Doctor beamed as Martha's mother continued to storms over to him, his smile vanishing entirely when she swung her hand back to slap him in the face.

"Keep away from my daughter!" she demanded, glowering as she pointed at the pair of the accusingly, "Both of you, I don't want you _anywhere_ near her, do you understand me?!"

Amara's hands flew into the air in surrender, her brows haven risen in utter shock t what had just happened, "Francine- "

"Don't," Martha's mother rounded on her in an instance, "We barely know each other, and I _don't_ want to waste another moment pretending we _could_ possibly get along with one another."

Amara's hearts sunk with her chest as she glanced over at Martha, her hands falling dead beside her. "Mum what are you _doing_?" Martha demanded, shocked.

Turning to face the Doctor, Amara winced when she saw the red mark that had been left from the force of Francine's hit, and it looked as though it was stinging, forming a slight welt on his skin. She pressed a hand to his cheek, hoping the coolness of her palm would soothe it.

She smiled when he leaned into her palm, obviously appreciating the gesture, "Does this happen with all their mothers?" Amara sighed, managing an amused smile though her concerned tone.

"Unfailingly."

"Fortunately for you, you'll never have to face my mother," Amara offered with a smile, hoping to cheer him up though he seemed to darken at the tone of her voice, tilting his head. "She's dead, so that's an angry mother you'll never have to explain kidnapping to, Space Cowboy."

The Doctor studied her face for a moment, frowning, "What happened?"

"Space is _always_ the final frontier," Amara breathed, not wanting to think about her mother at all. " _'Star Trek'_ told us so."

"They are _dangerous_!" Mrs. Jones argued, "I've been told things."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Martha frowned, scoffing.

"Look around you!" her mother implored, moving to grab her shoulders, "Nothing but death and destruction!"

"This isn't _their_ fault," Martha defended, outraged by her mother's audacity to be so rude. "They _saved_ us, all of us!"

"It was Tish who invited everyone to this thing in the first place," Leo interjected scornfully, "I'd say, technically, it's _her_ fault."

"Come on," Amara reasoned as Tish elbowed him in the side, "We're all reasonable adults here."

"No more talking from you," Mrs. Jones warned her.

Suddenly, a crash erupted from down the street, drawing all their attentions from the dispute to it.

Allowing her curiosity to the get the better of her, Amara surged forwards and dragged the Doctor along with her s the pair of them took off running.

Anxious, Martha tried to follow them but her mother pulled her back instantly. "Leave them!" Francine begged her daughter.

Martha shook her head, pulling herself away from her mother's embrace to run after them.

She wasn't prepared to let her friends go running off in the face of danger without being by their side; she wasn't about to abandon them, they'd never done so with her... Amara had never given up hope on her, so why would she through the trust away? Why would she abandon them when they made her feel as though she belonged.

She deserved to be with them, they made her feel included and a part of something than she'd always been led to believe. She would abandon them. They were as good as family in her eyes.

She found them stood staring at the ambulance which was broken down outside a church as Tish caught up, almost running into the back of her. She gaped at the state the ambulance was in; its doors had been forced open, the medics dried up corpses much like Lazarus's previous victims.

"Lazarus, back from the dead," the Doctor muttered in a deep sigh, shaking his head, "Should've known, really," he pulled out his sonic and began to search for the fluctuating DNA that would lead him to Lazarus's whereabouts.

"Where's he gone?" Martha looked around the streets, worried that Lazarus might have disappeared into the night to attack more helpless people.

"That way," the Doctor said, nodding to the direction of a nearby church. "The church."

"Well, I don't know about you lot," Amara let out with a sheepish smile, "But I've never been very pious."

"Cathedral," Tish corrected as they all turned to look at her, slightly surprised by her appearance, "It's Southwark Cathedral... he told me," she shrugged.

Not bothering to wait, Amara started towards the Cathedral as the others copied her movements, moving up cautiously through the aisle while the Doctor held out his sonic before him, frowning.

"Do you think he's in here?" Martha whispered, eyeing Amara as she strolled along rather too casually for her liking, making her feel very uncomfortable.

"Sometimes those feel safe in the Lord's embrace," Amara offered with a shrug.

Reaching the front of the cathedral, they found Lazarus hunched on his knees behind the alter, huddled beneath a red blanket, raggedly breathing, shuddering. "I came here before," he announced softly when he caught sight of them standing behind him, "A lifetime ago. I thought I was going to die then. In fact, I was sure of it. I sat there, just a child… the sound of planes and bombs outside."

"The Blitz," the Doctor acknowledged.

"You've read about it," Lazarus assumed with a faint nod.

The Doctor shook his head slightly as he gravitated towards Lazarus, "I was there."

"You're _too_ young," he scoffed, shaking his head at the absurdity.

"So are you," the Doctor countered with a shrug.

Lazarus laughed but it became strangled, turning into gasps of pain as he fought the mutation, "In the morning, the fires had died, and I was still alive. I _swore_ I'd never face death like that again," as he spoke, the Doctor glanced at Amara whose attention seemed to be focused on the bell tower lurking above them before her gaze fell upon Lazarus again, "So defenceless... I would arm myself, fight back, defeat it."

"That's what you were trying to do today," the Doctor concluded thoughtfully.

"That's what I _did_ today," he corrected curtly.

"But those people," Amara ground out, her eyes narrowing as she stared down at him, "What about the people you tried to kill? What about the people you _did_ kill... is that what you call fighting back?" she hissed, finding her disdain for him growing with each passing moment, "Is that what evolution is? Murder?"

"They were nothing," he snarled through gritted teeth, "I _changed_ the course of history."

"And who's to say that none of them might have done the very same, who's to say that they were capable of extraordinary things? You?" Amara swallowed thickly, stepping away from the creature at her feet, "To die is to have lived, you can't cheat it... it's a process _everyone_ has to encounter, we've all got to die. What makes _you_ any different? Because you have a extra brain cells? You didn't apply them _very_ well, did you?"

"You think history's only made with equations? Facing death is part of being human..." the Doctor argued, not liking how distressed Amara had become at the hands of Lazarus, "You _can't_ change that."

"No," Lazarus glared at the pair of them, " _Avoiding_ death. _That's_ being human. It's our strongest impulse, to cling to life with every fibre of being. I'm doing what everyone before me has _tried_ to do. I've simply been more… successful," he groaned in agony, his body writhing with pain at the hands of the mutation.

" _Look_ at yourself!" the Doctor scoffed, throwing his hands up into the air incredulously, "You're _mutating_! You have _no_ control over it! You call that a _success_?"

"I call it _progress_. I'm more now than I was. More than just an ordinary human."

"You can't know very many extraordinary humans..." Amara mused, her eyes flitting over to Martha for a split second, "Is that because of your repulsive bedside manner? Is that why you so cynically shallow?"

"There's _no_ such thing as an _ordinary_ human," the Doctor countered heartedly.

"He's gonna change again at any minute," Martha whispered, stepping towards them, eyeing Lazarus as she spoke, fully away that her sister was stood behind her, having been a previous target of Lazarus.

"I know," the Doctor sighed.

"We need to get him up into the bell tower somehow, play a few symphonies..." Amara told them, her gaze trained above them once more.

The Doctor frowned for a moment, "I've an idea that might work."

"Up there?" Martha eyed the tower.

Amara frowned in thought when she saw a glint in Martha's eyes, making her believe that the woman had an idea of how to lead him up there, and wasn't planning on telling herself or the Doctor.

"You're so sentimental, Doctor," Lazarus mused in amusement, "Maybe you are older than you look."

"I'm old enough to know that a longer life isn't always a better one," he spoke, turning his back on Lazarus, "In the end, you just get tired. Tired of the struggle. Tired of losing everyone that matters to you. Tired of watching everything turn to dust," he squatted before the man as he winced, "If you live long enough, Lazarus, the only certainty left is that you end up alone."

"That's a price worth paying."

"You're a fool." Amara breathed, closing her eyes in vexation before looking to Martha who was staring up at the tower in thought... her eyes widened in realisation of what she'd planned. _No way_.

"I will feed soon," Lazarus writhed through a grimace.

"I'm _not_ gonna let that happen," the Doctor threatened, scowling at the man.

"You've not been able to stop me so far."

"Leave him, Lazarus!" Martha interjected suddenly, "He's old and bitter... thought you had a taste for _fresher_ meat."

"No offence, Martha, but you're a bit on the skimpy side. I mean you _can_ have her if you want, but I shocked you pretty bad back there..." Amara rolled her neck, eyeing the man as the writhing grew more regular, "You wouldn't want that little, itty, bitty defeat to harm your _precious_ reputation would you?"

Lazarus glowered at her, staggering to his feet.

"Thought not," Amara managed before turning and racing towards the stairs, Lazarus chasing after her. "Paula Radcliffe eat your heart out..."

"'Mara, no!" the Doctor exclaimed, watching as Lazarus ascended the stairs after, wheeling around to look at both Martha and Tish, "Martha..." he looked at her desperately, needing her to step up and do what he couldn't bring himself to do.

"Right," Martha nodded, breaking out into a run with Tish following, reaching the stairs to follow the chase as a roar bellowed through the air, signalling the change.

"Martha..." Tish muttered.

"He's changed," Martha let out a ragged breath, "We need to hurry!"

* * *

The Doctor turned as he surveyed the floor above him, watching for any sign of life until he heard the distant roars of the Lazarus, "'Mara?!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth so that his voice echoed. "Take him to the top, the very top of the bell tower, d'you hear me?"

"That was the plan anyway," Amara replied, skidding to a halt as she looked through an archway, watching Lazarus's shadow. "Sound is everything... reverse it!" Amara shouted, catching a glimpse of Lazarus as she bolted again, "Hyper..." her voice trailed off.

"Martha?!" the Doctor hollered, turning again as he saw her appear, "You need to hurry!"

"We're trying!"

Looking around, the Doctor spotted a large pipe organ and broke out into a run, climbing to the box and sitting himself down on the bench. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver in an instant and began fiddling with the settings, "Hypersonic sound waves," he muttered to himself, and he fumbled around before jamming it into a slot in the organ, his hands shaking slightly.

"Better be good acoustic in here," he sighed before beginning to play.

* * *

Having reached the top of the bell tower, Amara wandered around the circular walkway so she stood opposite the entrance... trapped and cornered as Lazarus arrived in the doorway, blocking the exit.

"D'you know what this reminds me of?" Amara sighed, trying to buy herself some time, "All we need is a singing teapot to serenade us really... ' _tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, Beauty and the Beast'_... no?"

Lazarus growled, prowling the length of the walkway.

"It's a classic!" Lazarus swung his tail and ducked, "A singing teapot!"

In an instant, he swung his tail as she threw herself aside, dodging the blow. He tried again, hitting the wall as Amara dodged it when Martha and Tish arrived, breathless. "'Mara!"

"No!" Amara shouted, rolling away from the tail, "Get back!" she called out to them, suddenly distracted, worrying about their safety rather than pay utter attention to Lazarus as his tail swung into her, forcing her over the ledge.

"'MARA!" Martha screamed.

* * *

The scream reached the Doctor below as he frantically played, desperation rising within him when nothing happened. Yanking the sonic back out, he scowled, "... turn this up to eleven," he muttered to himself, resetting the volume of the organ before sticking it back in to play much more vigorously than before.

He needed noise, lots of it...

* * *

Martha could only worry, petrified, as Lazarus loomed over Amara as she clung on for dear life, wincing. "Lazarus!" she tried, not wanting him to land a direct hit again as his attention _finally_ shifted to them.

Clawing at the ledge, Amara hoisted herself up slightly to clasp a hand on Lazarus's tail as it swung again, gritting her teeth together as her eyes grew heavily.

Tish gaped as static pulses rippled around Lazarus's form, causing him to shriek in agony, writhing as Martha continued to cry out.

Clasping her head in a sudden pain, Tish cried out in agony as she covered her ears from the sound waves having collected in the tower, bouncing off the walls to cause herself and Martha to wince in pain.

Martha winced as Lazarus began to writhe in pain once again, twisted around awkwardly before falling over the edge, past Amara as she continued to cling on, toppling to the ground with a heavy thud.

* * *

Upon seeing Lazarus fall, the Doctor ceased his playing to peer over the edge of the organ booth, seeing the man very much human once again.

* * *

Rushing to Amara's side, Martha grabbed her arm, gesturing for Tish to help her as they both hauled her up to safety, "We've got you... don't worry," Martha told her forcefully.

"Hold on, 'Mara..." Tish winced as they both managed to get her safely onto the walkway again.

Amara winced, the vein in her neck thumping ruthlessly which made her head vibrate hideously, "Never considered myself an adrenaline junkie..."

"'Mara?!" the Doctor exclaimed when he was met with utter silence, obviously needing reassurance.

"She's okay!" Martha called down to him, sighing in relief, "We're all okay!"

Amara blinked, feeling dizzy and compromised... futile as the two women tried to life her, successfully failing, "Can you walk?" she heard Martha's voice echo around her.

"Give me a minute," she whispered dryly., biting her lip as a wave of pain hit her. "I'll be fine... just let me..."

"What's wrong?" Martha asked, worried.

"I broke my promise, Doctor Jones."

Martha noticed her neck then, eyes widening as she and Tish managed to haul Amara to her feet, her body growing slack as the pair of them struggled with the descent back down the tower, the other woman feeble and in pain as they did.

She'd used whatever that thing was twice in one day... and it'd taken its toll. Martha hadn't felt so worried about someone she barely knew... to see her in so much pain, to see her having saved her life, her family's... she couldn't let her throw her life away.

Stifling a sob, Martha led them out of the stairs as she felt a squeeze on her shoulder, "Don't cry, Jones," she heard Amara murmur softly.

She couldn't help it. The woman was a martyr, ready to die for any cause she saw fit, for any cause that suited her... she was impulsive, reckless and passionate... she was so much like the Doctor.

She couldn't help but wonder if she used it again... would she die? Amara, in her eyes, was one of the only people to truly give a damn about her entirely. She couldn't afford to lose her.

"You were brilliant, Tish," Amara told her sister, seeing the woman beam, "It must run in the family."

When they saw him, the Doctor was knelt beside Lazarus, having closed the man's eyes as the body grew old once again. Smiling, he turned and saw the women emerge from the tower and his smile soon died when he saw Martha and Tish supporting Amara.

Striding over to them, he immediately looped an arm under Amara's shoulder, moving Tish aside to hold her upright, "What happened?" he demanded, seeing the growth in the prominent line at her neck, practically glowing in variance. What worried him more was how light she felt... how limp...

Martha frowned, "What'd you think?"

"He could've killed you and Tish," Amara tried to justify her actions under the heavy glare of the Doctor, knowing it would do little to convince him. "We make a great team," she pulled Martha into a sideways hug, smiling softly as Martha pulled the Doctor into it.

"Don't you dare do anything like that again, 'Mara," the Doctor warned as he pulled away.

"I already broke that promise."

"I didn't know you could play," Martha commented, looking at the Doctor.

"That racket was _not_ playing," Amara arched a brow.

The Doctor merely rolled his eyes, "Well, you know, if you hang around with Beethoven, you're bound to pick a few things up..."

"Hmm, especially about playing loud."

"Sorry?" he asked, pretending he didn't hear her which roused a smile from Amara as Martha laughed, the pair of them helping the overly enthusiastic woman out of the cathedral cautiously.

Eventually, the Doctor took over as Martha slowed to say a goodbye to her sister but Tish seemed too engrossed by the Time Lord, "He's too handsome to be a doctor, so _who_ is he?"

Martha arched a brow at her, "Too handsome to be a doctor?" she scoffed, turning her attention back to the pair in front of her, smiling at the sight of him helping her attentively, "What makes you say that... he's not interested in me anyway."

"No offence, Martha... but that's obvious, but he is gorgeous, isn't he?" Tish grinned, pulling Martha along, "How old is he? He looks about thirty... he's good for thirty..."

Martha had no idea how hold he was... probably centuries, just like Lazarus... doomed to immortality whilst everything around him faded. "Absolutely, no idea..." she breathed with a shrug.

"He fancies her," Tish told her, nudging her side as they both saw the Doctor smiling at whatever Amara had said, laughing softly as he helped her along.

As she watched them, Martha couldn't help but feel the more they were together, their _flirtationship_ would escalate... she could see it happening in the future, and she was rooting for it. She'd be their mascot: Amara was good for the Doctor.

* * *

In the short time they'd been there, Amara had grown very fond of Martha's little flat... well, in truth, she'd grown very fond of Martha Jones in general and had no intention of letting her stay in her warm and conveniently safe flat.

The Doctor, eyeing Amara as she flicked through Martha's CDs, stood sheepishly in front of the TARDIS, "Something else that just kind of escalated then," the Doctor commented quietly, finding himself not able to meet Martha's gaze.

"I can see a pattern developing," Martha replied with a shrug.

"It's like Groundhog Day," Amara called from where she was stood, " _'Am I right or am I right?'_ "

"You should take more care in the future... and the past, and whatever other time period you find yourself in."

The Doctor looked up at her, smiling, "It's good fun, though, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she nodded as Amara smiled.

"So…what d'you say, one more trip?" the Doctor offered which made Amara roll her eyes, wondering if he'd ever understand Martha's hesitant and constant awkwardness. He would _supposed_ to be the clever one.

"No," Martha spoke after a moment, shaking her head softly, "Sorry."

His face dropped entirely, a frown replacing all traces of the smile that had been there before, "What do you mean? I thought you liked it."

"I do," she assured him quickly, "But I _can't_ go on like this. _'One more trip'_... it's not fair."

Amara smiled at Martha, proud that she was finally voicing her concerns in the hopes of getting the Doctor to understand her predicament, "Good for you, Martha Jones."

"What're you talking about?" he tilted his head in genuine confusion.

"For goodness sake," Amara breathed exasperatedly, "She doesn't want to be just a _passenger_ anymore, don't you get it?" she explained, her brow furrowed in annoyance.

Martha smiled sadly, "I don't want to be someone you take along just for a treat. If _that's_ how you still see me, well, I'd rather stay here."

The Doctor glanced between the two women, seeming lost and hurt by them having discussed it without him _even_ knowing. "All right, fine, if that's what you'd prefer..."

"It is," Martha agreed, "We've said goodbye once already, so you might as well just go."

Without another word, he turned and stepped inside the TARDIS, leaving a dumbstruck Amara standing there confusedly.

Amara winced when she looked at Martha, "Let me talk to him..." pulling the door open, she saw him stood by the console, brooding. She wasn't going to bother with being polite, she would make the Doctor see his mistake. "I want Martha to come."

"You heard her, 'Mara," he looked up, hurt reflecting in his eyes, shaking his head at her. "She _doesn't_ want to."

"And why is that?" she countered with an arched brow. When he said nothing, she found herself moving towards the console. Sighing, Amara set a hand on his arm, "You need to get past this... thing, _whatever_ it is," she wouldn't let Martha become the victim for his prolonged sulking, "Rose isn't coming back but I sure as hell hope she wouldn't want you to be alone."

"But I'd have you," the Doctor argued with a smile.

"You know what I mean, don't dodge it," she wasn't going to let Martha down, and if that meant upsetting the Doctor in the process, if that meant telling him a few home truths, she'd do it. "You can't let Rose rule your life."

His eyes widened, "What?"

"Martha was right..." Amara closed her eyes, "You can't let the memory of Rose control your life. I mean, you had companions _before_ her right? Then why can't you have any _after_ her?" she swallowed thickly, contemplating if what she was going to say next was entirely appropriate, "You... you need to move on, and as horrible as that sounds, you do."

"I won't replace her," the Doctor ground out, though he regretted the words as soon as he said them.

"I never said that," she reasoned with him, "You're jumping to conclusions."

"I didn't know Rose... and I get that you miss her, I do. I understand that it's hard because you loved her, and I'm not asking you to replace those feelings for someone else," Amara paused, running a hand over her face tiredly, she didn't know how she could make it seem less harsher than it actually sounded, "I'm telling you I know Martha, and I want her to stay. We both _need_ her, she's the reason and sense... and she's saved my life a fair few times. She's _different_ to Rose, all right?" she wouldn't let him abandon Martha just because he felt uncomfortable, "You need someone with you to remind you that you can move on... you know as well as I that no one can stay forever. Why would you want to miss out on meeting incredible people?"

The Doctor didn't say anything, merely looking down in silence.

Amara watched him silently for a moment, "Are you returning me to Jack?"

"What?"

"Are you going to take me back to Jack?"

The Doctor scoffed at her, "I won't do that."

"Why am I _any_ different?" Amara pressed, hurt that he was willing to leave Martha but keep her.

"Because you get it; you understand."

"Martha isn't Rose..." Amara sighed, "she gets it and she can handle herself, and if she can do that why can't she come? I'm _very_ fond of Martha, and she _deserves_ to come," he looked up and watched her as she folded her arms, "If you don't let her, then you can take me back to Jack... and you can be alone."

He'd lost _his_ companion, and he needed to heal but not by being alone.

The Doctor sighed, a small laugh escaping his lips as he watched the woman wander around the console, finding himself nodding. "Fine, all right..." he agreed, pushing himself away from the console.

Amara smiled, "Good."

Sighing, the Doctor strolled back over to the doors, hauling gone of the doors back to poke his head around it, "Um, so... okay."

Her back was to him when he stepped out, causing Martha to turn when he'd spoken , a deep frown pulling across her face when she found the TARDIS hadn't disappeared. "What is it?" Martha pressed when seeing the Doctor standing there.

"What?" the Doctor shrugged, "I said okay."

Martha blinked, "Sorry?"

"Okay," he repeated, nodding towards the TARDIS.

Martha's eyes widened in realisation that Amara must have convinced him., "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" she surged forwards, throwing her arms around him as she laughed.

"Well, you were never really _just_ a passenger, were you?"

Stepping past him, she raced up the gantry and threw her arms around Amara, hugging her tightly, "Thank you _so_ much..." she squeezed her, burying her face into the other woman's neck.

"What have I been telling you?" Amara rolled her eyes, "' _All you need is faith and trust._ '"

"You were betting on whether you could twist my arm or not?" the Doctor asked, feigning a hurtful expression although he was secretly pleased she'd succeeded.

Amara grinned, "Too right, wackadoodle."

Flicking a few levers and twisting some controls, the Doctor sighed as he leaned against the console, "What did your mother mean?" the Doctor asked suddenly.

Martha frowned when Amara snorted, "When?"

The Doctor eyed her for a moment, "Y'know, when she asked what had been so busy..." he trailed off, scratching the back of his head in discomfort, "She, uh, I think she wasn't too happy about it..."

Martha stared him, tilting her head as she watched him, wondering if it was really not that obvious what her mum had meant... or was he teasing her? Or perhaps he really didn't know... she wasn't too sure. "Well," she stumbled over her words, frowning in thought as she tried to think of a suitable answer, "She thought we'd been sleeping with one another..."

A silence fell between them all, awkward and lingering as Amara blew out the mouthful of air she'd been holding. The Doctor, however, kept his eyes firmly trained upon the TARDIS console, refusing to look up as heat rose into his cheeks, "I take it she didn't mean actual _sleeping_ and rather meant _dancing_."

"Oh, for God's sake... _sex_ , she'd thought we'd been having way too much bloody sex to talk!" Martha wheezed, her face burning with embarrassment, "Sex, sex, _sex_!" the Doctor's head shot up immediately, eyes wide.

Amara laughed, "' _Let's talk about sex, baby, let's talk about you and me...'_ " she hummed, finding the entire situation rather amusing, "' _Let's talk about all the good things, and the bad things that may be. Let's talk about sex...'_ "

"'Mara, please," the Doctor groaned in frustration while Martha chuckled. He hadn't felt so awkward about a topic in such a long time, and with Amara teasing him about it, it didn't make it any easier.

"Oh, it's natural!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up into the air, honestly not understanding what was so awkward about it, why he couldn't see the funny side to it all. "Gotta love a bit of rumpy pumpy to get the juices flowing properly."

The Doctor almost choked on air, double-taking as he stared at Amara incredulously, "E- excuse me?" he blubbered, stuttering slightly which made Amara laugh. Amara definitely enjoyed teasing him, that much he knew.

"Oh, come on! Stop blushing as though we've tainted you, what are you the Virgin Mary?" Amara wiggling her brows at the Doctor, smiling softly at how skittish he was acting, "Sex is _sex_ , get over it."

"This is a conversation I'd rather not be having."

"I swear to god," Martha laughed softly, throwing her head back with a roll of her eyes, "How anyone puts up with your whining I'll never know."

"It's _not_ whining," he defended with a scowl, "It's just... it's not _something_ I really... do."

Amara slung a arm over the Doctor's shoulders, grinning as he eyed her suspiciously, "Aren't you a real Casanova..." she tapped his cheek softly before pressing her lips to the cheek Francine had struck. "So, Martha, I like your mother... very _feisty_?"

"You like my mum?" Martha scoffed, grimacing.

Amara shrugged, rolling her aching neck, "I figured she'll grow on me..." she frowned in thought, " _eventually_. Feisty's good though, I like feisty. And your sister has a good head on her shoulders, just like you." Martha beamed at her and Amara smiled in return, "I bet Christmas dinners are fun."

Martha's eyes widened, "Don't go there..."

"Oh, my God!" Amara exclaimed, grinning frantically as she grabbed Martha's hands. "Christmas dinners, I love Christmas dinners! Roast potatoes, stuffing... do you think you'd be able to convince her to invite me? Not him, just me because I'm your favourite."

"Oi!" the Doctor whined pathetically, "If we're going to be travelling together, I'm not having the tag-team rubbish because it's irritating..." he paused and eyed the pair of them for a moment, "and it's _not_ fair."

"Would you look at that, Martha Jones..." Amara marvelled, leaning her head on Martha's shoulder, "I think our Space Cowboy feels emasculated."

Martha nodded, "Agreed."

"If you're going to be like this, then I'll just ignore you."

"No, you won't," Amara sung with another grin, collapsing into the jump-seat with a sigh, "I'd win... women _always_ win."

He merely rolled his eyes before yanking on another lever, "Right, then... allons-y!" he announced, smiling suddenly which made both women reciprocate it as the TARDIS shifted.

"You're right, you know," Martha told Amara in thought, thinking back to what Tish had told her, "Tish is clever, she was right about something..."

Amara eyed her, suddenly intrigued. She hated secrets and it sounded like a secret. "What something?"

Martha grinned as she turned away, moving away from the console. "That would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"No, Martha!" Amara's face fell as she started after her, not liking the teasing or temptation at her knowing something she didn't. She needed to know what Tish had said. "Come on, Martha, you can't tease me like that!"

The Doctor laughed from where he stood at the console, watching as she almost tripped over her own feet as she chased after Martha, "How does it feel?" he laughed, making her pause to look at him. He could see the glint in her eyes, playful and grinning.

Amara scoffed, waving him off with an eye roll, "Oh, shut your face."

The Doctor grinned, leaning on his elbows as he watched the two women leave, "Nonsense, 'Mara..." she looked at him again and smiled, shrugging. He carried on grinned, finding the expression infectious and unstoppable. "I value you!" he called after her.

"I know."

He made a face, "A tad arrogant, no?" he loved the arrogance, it was sort of a guilty pleasure. It made everything more interesting.

"Or foxy," Amara winked, throwing a glance over her shoulder, "depends on your preference."

The Doctor poised a hand under his chin as he heard the voices, Amara shouting while Martha laughed at whatever she was shouting about. He smiled at the friendship that had formed between the two of them, the mutual respect and devotion to one another and how they strove to save the other's life.

What worried him was how vulnerable Amara had been after they'd defeated Lazarus. He didn't like seeing her so weak when she was _usually_ so full of life. It was terrifying and it worried him to his core. What made it worse was that the bloody woman wouldn't let himself or Martha examine her.

He needed to know what that thing in her neck was... he'd never seen anything like it before, and with her resisting, he doubted she would let him near her anytime soon. She was clever; any hugs and the left side of her body would be facing away from him – she did the same with Martha. It was infuriating.

He looked up when he heard Amara laugh in the distance and then the faints tones of music echoing... the Doctor smiled fondly. He'd let Amara persuade him; he'd barely fought her. Yes, he didn't like the way she talked _so_ casually about Rose as if she was no one, but she was reasonable and he loved that she was just enough of that to be trusted.

It reminded him of something Tish had told him...

 _Tish tilted her head as she stared at him trying to figure him out, "You do care about her, right?"_

 _He frowned, not sure if she was talking about Martha or Amara - he went with Martha. "Of course, I care about your sister," he defended, his eyes wide, "I don't ask just anyone to travel with me... I don't trust_ just _anyone. She has my back, and I have hers."_

 _He moved to walk away but Tish called him back, making him turn, "If you break her heart, Doctor or hurt her in_ any _way," she warned lowly, "I'll break you."_

 _The Doctor smiled her, "If you don't succeed, I'm sure 'Mara_ will _."_

He wouldn't let Martha go until Amara convinced him otherwise... and by their friendship, he guessed it wouldn't be for some time.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you are all enjoying the story as it progresses with each update.**

 **Feel free to drop a review - as you can probably tell, I desperately want to know what you all think, as it would be lovely for feedback from readers.**

 **REVIEWERS:**

ShadowTeir - _**Hello again, thank you for another review! I love Disney, it's good for any occasion, I find. I hope the Doctor and Mara dynamic is enjoyable enough to read as some OCs can get dull and repetitive after a while. I'm so pleased you're enjoying the story though - thank you! Hope you like the update.**_

 **Thanks again,**

 **Ezeiel**


	11. X

Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to distract Amara with what she considered to be a good film; while it had worked, she was far _too_ engrossed with the entire concept of film watching, something which Martha had expected her to be familiar with, at least aware of.

She'd always figured that people from the future knew about films and all that, but then again, Amara had admitted to not being human... so, where did that put her? She smiled as the other woman sat forwards on her knees, hands poised securely under her chin while her eyes remained fixed on the screen, watching the unfolding events.

"He isn't _even_ Scottish, really," Martha commented when Mel Gibson paraded onto the screen, atop a horse. "American."

Amara glanced at her, "He isn't?" she looked away again, frowning at the long-haired man on the screen in front of her, "Well, blow me down..." she would have never guessed he wasn't Scottish, but then again he was an actor so she knew she shouldn't have been too surprised.

"Shame he dies," Martha sighed, sipping her tea. "But that's history for you."

"He dies?!"

"What?" Martha frowned, eyeing Amara as she glared at her, "Figured you knew about him, being a famous historical figure and all..."

"I only _know_ about the bits that interest me," Amara mumbled lowly, "Now, I'm gonna be tense waiting for him to die."

"It's not for ages yet..."

Amara rolled her eyes, "And that makes it any better?" she turned back to watch the speech being proclaimed on the screen, her eyes narrowing with interest, "Ooh, a battle."

"What type of films do you usually like then if not period dramas?" Martha asked, reclining into the chair.

"I like- ' _they may take our lives, but they will never take our freedom!_ '" Amara jumped to her feet, raising a fist into the air with a crooked grin, jeering at the screen in amusement. "You 'em, Willy!"

Martha grabbed her arm to yank her back down into the chair, "You're not part of the film, sit down."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Wendy," Amara teased with a wry smile, grateful that Martha had picked such a good film to watch while the Doctor tinkered about with the console. She hadn't seen many; Toril often went on about them, though they never got round to indulging themselves in any. She'd seen some with Jack in the short time she'd been at Torchwood. She enjoyed the pastime. "Good ol', Willy, I feel like part of the cavalry..." she jeered, beaming.

"Well, you are Northern."

"Not Scottish though," Amara remarked with a grin, sipping her tea and humming, "This is a good cuppa, Martha Jones."

Martha recoiled slightly, "Do you have to do that?" she sighed.

Amara frowned, "Do what?"

"Say my full name all the time," she inwardly cringed, grimacing; it made her feel like she was at school.

"Why not?" Amara smiled her, not understanding why it was a bad thing. She thought Martha's name was lovely. "You're brilliant and you've got a great name."

" _Me?_ No, I don't think so... you're the brilliant one."

"Not true," Amara scoffed, annoyed at her blatant disregard for herself, "You're smart, _Doctor_ Jones... you're really, _really_ smart – you've got a fantastic life! Absolutely _brilliant_ ," she grinned at her, perfectly besotted with her friend, wanting and wishing that she knew her worth.

"And you're brilliant, too," Martha argued with a smile.

"Nothin' special about little ol' me, I'm no William Wallace."

"You're _so_ wrong," Martha shook her head softly, knowing that Amara had so much more worth than she did. "You're so different unlike me, you don't have the fancy education that makes you all reasonable and boring. Takes the fun right out of it."

Amara grinned at her and Martha couldn't help but carry on, "Come on, he likes that you're smart enough to keep up with him, that's more than I can do most of the time."

"Ah, but you're all sciency," Amara breathed, tucking some hair behind her ear, "Science is where I draw a firm line, I just can't... anyway, he enjoys us both equally. We listen because he likes to explain things because it makes him feel important," they both couldn't help but smile at Amara's words.

Martha loved the fact that Amara was her friend, she even considered her to be something of a sister to her, despite their differences, they looked out for one another... she was proud to accept her into her family.

"Room for one more?" both women looked up to see the Doctor poking his head through the door, wearing a cheesy grin before stepping inside. Martha was sat quite contently on the sofa while Amara seemed to have settled on the floor, intently staring at the screen before her.

"Not enough for lankly geeky chic, I'm afraid," Amara called over her shoulder, despite there being the very vacant seat next to Martha behind her on the sofa.

The Doctor rolled his eyes in disbelief, "Hilarious," he moved towards the sofa, throwing his suit jacket over the back of it.

"Oh, I'm _very_ funny," Amara finally looked at him, eyeing him a moment before turning away again, "Hi-la-ri-ous, in fact. And you love it."

The Doctor smiled at her reply, giving an eye roll, "I've got Digestives..." he held up a packet of biscuits, frowning as he looked them over, noticing how Martha immediately sat up at the mention of snacks. "Triple chocolate chip, and Jaffa Cakes," the Doctor waved them with a wiggle of his brows, hoping to twist their arms.

Amara turned to face him completely, eyeing the packets in his hands with interest before patting the sofa, sporting a soft smile, "Come right on in, handsome."

The Doctor sighed, collapsing into the chair as Martha snatched the Digestives from him, Amara retrieving a Jaffa Cake with a grin, "That's what it takes? Food?" they'd refused to let him in all morning, and so he'd chosen to tinker with some controls which seemed pointless because Amara would undoubtedly fiddle with them and change them. "I have to bring food so I can sit down and watch a film with you?"

Chewing, Amara gave a firm bob of her head, looking to Martha who had taken two Digestives to make a biscuit sandwich, to avoid getting chocolate on her hands the Doctor guessed. "Fair trade, wouldn't you say, Martha?"

"Exactly," Martha smiled at the sweetness of the chocolate, "You don't get our company without paying the toll," she sent him a playful look when he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, _'if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got the pay the toll, take a gulp and take a breath... and go ahead and sign the scroll!'_ " Amara hummed, bobbing her head as she ate the Jaffa Cake.

Leaning towards Martha, the Doctor sighed. He was worried about Amara, about the front she was putting up and how she was pretending everything was all right. Everything was, _most_ definitely, not all right. "How long can she keep this up?" he murmured with a frown.

"I think she's trying to convince us not to worry about her," Martha replied, licking away the remains of chocolate on the tips of her fingers.

"I can hear you," Amara called, eyeing the pair of them dubiously, " _'Flotsam, Jetsam, now I've got her, boys... the boss is on a roll, this poor un-fort-un-ate soul!'_ " she clasped her hands together in mirth, smiling brightly, "I feel as though I'm pursing the wrong career..."

The Doctor laughed jubilantly, "You're joking?"

"I'll pretend not to be offended," Amara brushed him off with a playful scowl, "I'll have you know, I think my range is very commendable for an amateur."

The Doctor observed her, his smile widening still as he immersed himself in their usually playful banter, "I wonder if Luciano Pavarotti would say the same... we can go check if you like?" he teased, pleased when he saw the smile betraying her feigned annoyance, peeking through the grim line of her lips.

"Now, I'm definitely offended," Amara climbed to her feet, folding her arms over her chest, "In what way is Disney similar to opera? That's like binary opposites..."

The Doctor grinned, wedging another biscuit free as he offered it to her, "Digestive?"

"You ain't worming your way back in so easily, mister..." she eyed the biscuit before accepting it, rolling her eyes in frustration, "What an outrage, utterly scandalous! I am astounded."

"Does it hurt?" the Doctor asked her suddenly, his eyes falling upon her neck, relieved to see the vibrancy of the mark having faded some.

Amara subconsciously touched the side of her neck, shuddering slightly, "It's settled, honestly... it aches if anything," she was relieved from the subsided pain and content that its grievance had passed for the moment.

"I wish you'd let me look at it," Martha ground out.

Amara knew it was part of Martha's nature to want to make sure she was okay, but despite the woman training to be a medical professional, she was _not_ about to let her inspect something so potentially dangerous to a human. No way. She wouldn't endanger Martha so selfishly just so she could sleep easier at night; her sense of morality kept her mentally coherent on that regard. "Not gonna happen, Jones." She would sacrifice her own health to ensure Martha's safety.

"Gathered," Martha sulked, clenching her jaw. Her eyes flickered between the Doctor and Amara, "Why are you both so childish?"

Amara rolled her eyes in exaggeration, finding it highly amusing that Martha acting very much like a mother to the pair of them. "I'm _not_ childish, Jones, you're just a meanie."

"Yeah, well, childish people always want to win the argument," the female doctor affirmed softly, trying to desperately avoid an amusing dispute which would undoubtedly annoy the Doctor senseless, "I know it's better to lose."

"Oh, Martha..." Amara smiled in bemusement, draining the rest of her tea, "There's a child in each of us, who thrives in front of the people we are most comfortable with. I though you _knew_ that, Darling."

"I hate you sometimes..." the other woman grumbled under her breath when she realised that what she had said was very much true.

"If only that was true," Amara mused with a soft glint in her eye, "You prefer me to him, I'm your favourite."

"Enough with the favourites..." the Doctor announced with a sigh before allowing his eyes to flit over to Martha in anticipation, wondering in thought as he eyed Amara for a split second, "That's not true, is it? This hot-tempered, spunky gremlin isn't your favourite..."

Martha pinched the bridge of her nose, stifling the laugh that had caught in her throat, "Not this again."

Amara laughed aloud with a wide smirk, "Oh, and you are... some loud-mouthed, egotistical porcupine with an awful sense of humour?" she countered with a raised brow, eyeing him incredulously.

The Doctor stared at her for a moment, smiling softly, "She's jealous of the hair," he ruffled his brown spikes, "It's all she _ever_ goes on about, she must love it... I _think_ she likes it, she just won't admit. _All_ the women like my hair, Martha..." he looked over at Martha and flashed a bright grin, "do you like my hair?"

"Don't bring me into this little feud of yours. You make comments about his hair and he insults your intelligence..." Martha let out a breathless laugh, raising her hands into the air as she shook her head, "I'm Switzerland."

"Damn you, Switzerland!" Amara sighed deeply, falling to occupy the seat next to the Doctor, "Besides, it's _not_ a feud... we're _very_ fond of one another, aren't we, Space Cowboy? We just _love_ our little fun and games to get a rise out of one another..." flashing him a grin, she crossed her legs over his, trapping him before reaching for another biscuit, "Ka-chow."

"Do..." the Doctor's eyes ghosted over her legs, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the casual placement of her body, not really sure how to respond. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly, "Do you have to do that? You, um, your legs..."

"What?" Amara gave a shrug, "You stole my seat, and now I'm comfy again. What're ya gonna do, wackadoo?" she wanted him to try something, but she also knew that for a Time Lord, he was far too skittish and shy to touch – to be honest, she didn't want him touching her either.

Martha sighed, nudging the Doctor for him to be quiet, "Now, seeing as you so rudely interrupted, are you ever gonna answer my question?" she asked Amara as she stared back at her, frowning in interest.

Amara smiled kindly, "You ask _so_ many questions, Martha."

"Did you have anyone special back home?"

Amara paused for a moment, registering Martha words carefully, closely. How the hell did she expect her to answer a question like that without giving anything away? _Home is_ gone. She clenched her jaw as she thought, contemplating a plausible answer for the question, not knowing whether Martha would actually want to hear it. "No."

"No?" Martha repeated, unsure of what she was saying.

"Home's long gone... the people are gone, my life's gone. Everything I _ever_ had is gone," Amara knew there was no point sulking over it or reminiscing over the past when it could never be restored. She'd adapted to a life without Gallifrey, she'd learned to move on and accept her life for what it was. There was no other alternative. "You learn to move on, live with what your life has become... there's no point clinging to the past, it's never going to come back."

Neither of them spoke, merely continued to stare at her as she thought.

"There was..." Amara sighed in defeat before nodding slowly, "Someone but it turned volatile. It wasn't his fault... he was a good man, a good man corrupted by the minds of lesser men. I tried to protect him, but..." she would forever blame herself for what happened, for she had abandoned him and left him to die. "That never worked."

The Doctor frowned, and asked out of pure interest: "What happened?"

"It ended, as must everything. I betrayed him because my moral conscience got the better of me. Rules are there to protect us, we must obey them..." Amara sighed, clasped her hands together, "At least, that's what my mother believed. I always fancied myself a rule breaker but when it came down to it, my sense of morality got the better of me."

"So, you were together?" Martha assumed, her frown deepening.

Amara shook her head, "Not in so many words. It was one-sided; I didn't return to his feelings. He'd become a monster, though I wasn't scared of what he could do..." he'd gone insane, and she'd grown afraid of him, not knowing how to help in the best way she could without endangering herself... without potentially killing herself in the process. "I was scared to witness someone I'd grown up with, a _friend_ , become someone they weren't."

In one fluid moment, she removed herself from the sofa to stand away from them entirely, brow furrowed... seemingly conflicted with her thoughts. "It was, uh, partly my fault... I couldn't do anything to stop it, I did try... but I was one person. What can _one_ person do? I was forcibly removed, locked up..." Amara paused, blinking away the tears that had formed, rubbing the back of her neck to ease the tension, "Unfortunately, the story doesn't bear a happy ending."

"What happened?" Martha pressed, not liking how vulnerable Amara seemed.

She refused to meet their eyes, "Death." Everything died, the planet, her family... _her life._

Watching her come undone, watching how tearful she'd become and how shaken she'd grown in a matter of seconds left him severely unnerved with what he was seeing. He didn't like it one bit, and he hoped he wouldn't have to witness it again. "So, new day... new adventure. Where are we going today?" he clasped his hands together, wanting to change the subject in the hope of brightening Amara's mood.

Martha shrugged, "Depends."

"Where d'you want to go, Martha Jones?" the Doctor rephrased with a toothless grin.

"We don't have to go anywhere right away," Martha murmured, eyeing Amara as she stood off to the side with a furrowed brow, looking lost in thought.

"So, you complain about the lack of travelling..." he looked away from Amara, to try and distract his mind instead of letting it linger on her to worry, "And now, you're wanting to not travel? Are all women this indecisive?" the Doctor bristled with an eye roll, his gaze flickering between the both of them.

Martha made a whining sound, "Can't we just chat for a little longer? It's nice, normal for a change... I can forget you're _not_ human for a bit. No failed romances, just friendly chit-chat about normal things," she smiled softly, wanting to just relax for a moment without the never-ending need to be running away from something or shouting at the tops of her lungs. She wanted normality for a few moments.

"I like peanut-butter," Amara said suddenly, drawing both of their attentions to her in a split second, "Crunchy not smooth," she added with a smile.

"Not what I was hoping for, but all right..." Martha chuckled.

"Technically, you never specified. I provided a conversation," Amara countered with an eye roll, wanting to take her mind off of everything and anything to do with Gallifrey. She couldn't bare to think of it for the moment. "Oh, peanut butter with bananas is the best thing..." her eyes trailed to the Doctor, "do you have any peanut butter?"

"I don't know," the Doctor shrugged in admittance. "I have bananas though, _always_ bananas. Bananas are good. Do you know you should always take a banana to a party?" he asked them suddenly, grinning widely at the mention of the yellow fruit, recalling how he'd once told Rose a similar thing.

Amara brushed him off with a smile, "Who cares about that, we need to get some peanut butter ASAP."

Their talking malarkey had become something of a natural occurrence for them ever since that time Martha had voiced the Doctor's hand in New New York. It was like the Doctor was growing more comfortable, dropping bits of information so casually and at the oddest of moments.

Martha wondered if he actually meant for it to happen because she was sure he hadn't wanted to tell her anything at one point... but, she was too inquisitive. But he seemed to like it when she asked him questions, it seemed to help the grief fade to let them goodness flourish.

They all enjoyed the chatter during the quiet moments, usually it was in the control room, or they'd take place in one of the bedrooms, in the middle of night – a story that couldn't wait until morning. They seemed to gravitate towards the sofa with a film or music playing, talking comfortably.

"Wait," Martha frowned in thought, "So, I knew that you were like over nine hundred and everything... but you're in your tenth body?" she had no idea that he could change his bodies and that he hadn't always looked as he did sat in front of them.

"Regeneration cycle," the Doctor supplied.

Amara smirked, "Lucky sod."

"Brilliant," Martha marvelled as the Doctor grimaced.

"It's not as brilliant as it sounds, you know."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." Martha flapped her hands in the air, suddenly excited with the new revelation. "So, can you remember everything? Are you still the same person?"

The Doctor smiled, fiddling with his sonic, "Don't get me wrong, regeneration can take the wind right out of you... the last time, I got sick and ended up having a fencing match with a Sycorax. But the answer to your question, yes, I'm the same person. Just a different face."

Martha frowned, "But that makes no sense."

"Why does everything have to make sense?" Amara fired back at her, "Why can't some things remain a mystery?"

"Shut up, you," she laughed at her. "Will you teach me about alien DNA? It'd be interesting for research..."

The Doctor eyed Martha, "You want me to teach you?" she nodded and he found himself grinning, moving to an upright position, "So, I'll teach you about physiology, _my_ physiology."

Martha thought for a moment, "Right, so what happens if you bump into yourself? Is that even possible? Can't you meet your past or future self... there's no guarantee you'll always know where you're going to be at any given time, is there?

"That would be a very rare circumstance, I'd always imagined it being quite exciting," the Doctor commented, "You're full of brilliant questions, Martha."

"You're a Time Lord, of course it's exciting," Martha sighed.

"Well," the Doctor sighed contently, jumping to his feet in amusement, "Stick with me and the excitement will be endless."

"Oh, I plan to."

"Good. So, how about we get down to business and _actually_ go somewhere, eh?" he continued, clasping his hands together before dashing from the room, practically racing to the console room.

* * *

Surprisingly, the TARDIS seemed to be drifting gently through the Vortex, quivering every now and then as its occupants all stood around the console, heading towards what they believed would be a peaceful venture after the recent handful that had been thrown their way.

Amara tweaking a few controls as she walked around the console, watching the Doctor using his sonic to fiddle with Martha's phone. "There we go!" he smiled, turning to face Martha, "Universal Roaming. Never have to worry about a signal again," he tossed the phone back to her.

Catching the phone in one hand, she flipped it open eagerly, her eyes widening when she saw 'Universal Roaming Activated' on the screen, "No way!" Martha breathed in disbelief, "But it's... too mad! You're telling me I can call anyone, _anywhere_ in space and time on my _mobile_?"

"Long as you know the area code," the Doctor told her as she fawned over the mobile, "Frequent Flyer's privilege," he turned to Amara with a grin, "Your turn," he held out his hand expectantly.

Amara rolled her eyes, withdrawing a cellular device and grinning, waving it at him, "You do realise who you're talking to? I'm good with tech, sort of crossed that barrier long ago..." she tapped it against the manipulator at her wrist.

"Really?" he frowned, tilting his head.

"I'm too curious, and besides whatever I needed..." Amara glanced at the devices with an arched brow, "The Time Agency sort of supplied it for me. I was always prepared with an efficient mode of communication, ta-dah!" Looking at Martha, Amara smiled, "Oh, go on, Jones, give it a whirl!"

Martha returned the grin, beginning to dial her mother's number before they were all suddenly thrown to the floor as the TARDIS violently jolted, monitors flashing a glowering crimson.

"Distress signal!" the Doctor exclaimed, diving towards the monitor, brow furrowed as he began pressing some buttons furiously, "Locking on!" he lifted his foot as he tried to reach a lever, frowning as Amara slammed it down for him, sending her a bright smile, "Might be a bit of..." he winced as the TARDIS jolted again, sending them all flying.

"Distress signal!" the Doctor shouted, pressing some buttons, "Locking on!" he lifted his foot to try and hit another switch when Anna slammed it down for him, he sent her a quick smile, "Might be a bit of..." he tried to warn, when another jolt sent them flying again.

"Turbulence!" Amara shouted, skidding down the ramp to roll against the roll as the TARDIS jerked to a violent halt.

The Doctor glanced up, sending Martha an apologetic look as Amara groaned in annoyance. "Sorry!" he called, rushing to help Amara up before flying through the door, dragging Amara along briskly, "Come on, Martha!" he grinned back at her, "Let's take a look!"

Rushing out of the doors behind them, Martha immediately stumbled back at against the doors to the TARDIS from the blast of heat she was met with. Glancing around, she frowned at what appeared to be a ventilation room, glowing red from the extreme heat evaporated within.

"Whoa!" the Doctor exclaimed after stepping out, "Now _that_ is hot!"

"It's like a sauna in here!" Martha breathed, pulling off her jacket as Amara tossed hers inside the TARDIS despite not looking immediately bothered by the heat, seeming to copy Martha's actions instead.

"I hate saunas," Amara frowned as she looked around, eyeing the room curiously, "Most likely venting systems."

"Working at full pelt trying to cool down," the Doctor acknowledged, pulling on his specs, "Uh, wherever it is we are," his eyes feel upon a heavy duty door, "Well! If you can't stand the heat..." he strode over the door, hauling it open and holding it open for the two women to step into area labelled 'Area 30', "Well, that's better..."

"Area thirty..." Martha read off the sign sweating above them.

"Oi!" an man shouted, "You three!" they glanced around to see three other people, two men and a woman starting towards them down the corridor, all sweat-ridden, dirty with frantic expressions.

"Get out of there!" the woman pointed at the door behind them.

"Seal that door!" the younger of the two men hollered in a hysteric panic, also pointing to the room they had just come, "Now!" despite his orders, the three of them didn't move, prompting the two men to rush by them to slam the door shut.

"Who are you?" the woman eyed them all closely, inspecting them, "What are you doing on my ship?"

"Stowaways, Captain!" Amara saluted her, earning a frown from the Doctor at her jest, "Just kidding..."

"Are you police?"

Amara frowned, glancing between the Doctor and Martha in concern, she didn't like the nature of the situation they seemed to have landed themselves in, "Why would be the police?" she paused for a moment, "Did you... call them?" Amara looked beside her to see an amber glowing emanating from a nearby window, overwhelming the room and capturing her attention.

"We got your distress signal," Martha added.

"If this is a ship, why can't I hear any engines?" the Doctor questioned with an arched brow, wondering why they were drifting through space and looking so frightened for doing so... something was definitely wrong.

"It went dead four minutes ago," the woman informed them curtly.

The older man scoffed, "So, maybe we should stop _chatting_ and get to engineering," he reprimanded with a scowl before turning to the woman, "Captain."

" _Secure closure active_ ," a computerized voice echoed around them.

A loud clang sounded from the same corridor the crew had just emerged from, causing them all to spin to glance down it, "What?" the captain shouted in outrage.

"The ship's gone mad," the older man remarked in exasperation.

Suddenly some, a woman, came running down the corridor, nearly getting caught in the doors that had slammed shut behind her, "Who activated secure closure?" she demanded, rushing over to them breathlessly, "I nearly got locked in to Area Twenty-seven," the last door rocketed shut behind them, sealing them in Area Thirty, "Who are you?" she glowered at the trio with a severe frown.

The Doctor went to answer, but Martha, thankfully, beat him to it, "He's the Doctor, that's 'Mara, and I'm Martha," she answered, watching as Amara moved away slightly, "Hello," she added before following the other women as she wandered over to a small window, staring through it.

" _Impact projection,_ " the computer echoed, " _Forty-two minutes_."

"Well get out of this," the captain turned to her crew, "I promise."

"Doctor..." Martha let out shakily, staring out in horror at the window, her mouth agape as she stood beside an awestruck Amara.

"Forty-two minutes 'til wait?" the Doctor frowned, evidently more concerned with the computer and the fact that the captain look scared, having not liked the tone of her voice.

"Doctor!" Martha exclaimed, her face practically pressed against the window, "Look," at her tone, he ran over to stand between them, looking out of the window.

A short distance from the ship was a burning sun, thriving in vibrancy as it glowered; it was far _too_ close to the ship as it gravitated towards it, closer and closer.

"Forty-two minutes until we crash into the sun," the captain answered dully.

Scratching the back of her neck, Amara out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding, brow furrowed as she looked to Martha, "You know, once I stayed up all night to find out where the sun went... then it dawned on me," Martha frowned at the joke, not sign of amusement spilling out onto her features which made Amara frown in return, "Not a good time for a pun?"

Martha grimaced, "Not really."

"Oh, well," she gave a sigh in disappointment as the Doctor turned away, "I was only trying to brighten the mood – that was unintentional!" her eyes widened when she'd realised what she had said, catching the small smile on Martha's lips, "Ah! You smiled! I'm off the hook..."

Reaching for the captain, the Doctor grabbed her arm, "How many crew members are on board?" he pressed, evidence of concern on his face along with the panic rising within his voice.

"Seven, including us," she replied.

"We transport cargo across the galaxy," the second man explained briefly, "Everything's automated, we just keep the ship..."

Turning away, the Doctor ran back to the door where they'd left the TARDIS, calling to them all over his shoulder, "Call the others, I'll get you out!" he went to open the door, causing the crew members to rush forward, preventing him from doing so.

"Probably not the best idea, Space Cowboy!" Amara reasoned, noting the frantic behaviour of the crew.

The younger man's face fell, "What's he _doing_?"

"No!" the captain yelled, "Don't!"

But the Time Lord didn't listen, he pulled open the door, only to be blown back by the sheer force of the heat that had built up in the room. Stumbling back, Amara caught him as he fell to the ground while the crew fought to close the door.

"But _my_ ship's in there!" the Doctor cried in outrage as they re-sealed the door.

The younger man eyed him incredulously, "In the vent chamber?" the first man scoffed.

"It's our lifeboat!"

Amara sighed, helping him to his feet, "Parking isn't his forte!"

"It's _lava_ ," the second man hissed.

"The temperature's going mad in there!" the woman read the gauges with wide eyes, "Up _three thousand_ _degrees_ in _ten seconds_ , and _still_ rising."

"Channelling the air," the younger man added, "The closer we get to the sun, the hotter that room's gonna get."

"Oh, joy," Amara grimaced, looking over at Martha who seemed to be internally panicking.

"We're stuck here?" Martha eyes widened.

"So?" the Doctor shrugged, not seeing a problem that everyone else had perceived out of the situation, "We fix the engines, we steer the ship away from the sun! _Simple!_ Engineering down here, is it?" he ran down the corridor wearing a wide grin as the group trailed after him.

Brow furrowed, Amara ran alongside Martha as they followed after the Doctor in his frenzy, "It can't be that simple," she murmured, knowing if that had been the problem, why hadn't the crew sorted it themselves. That's what they were there to do, to handle any faults within the ship that would interfere with its job. It didn't make any sense.

"What?" Martha asked, looking at her in concern.

"You honestly think it's the engines?"

Martha gave a shrug of her shoulder; she wasn't really sure what was going on, and used the Doctor's assurance to keep herself calm but as soon as she looked at Amara, all the calmness that had gathered, dissipated immediately. "You don't?" she didn't want to hear the answer.

"If the ship's automated, it wouldn't make any sense for them to fail," Amara explained with a firm frown, concluding that something else was desperately wrong with the ship, something they didn't yet know about, "Engines don't _just_ stop working."

Martha gaped at her, "You're saying it's _one_ them?"

"Someone's out to sabotage this ship," Amara slowed to a walk, glancing between the crew skeptically, eyeing them carefully, "And if that sun's anything to go by, I think I know why..."

" _Impact in forty twenty-six_ ," the computer announced.

* * *

Upon entering the engine room, the group slowed to a halt to find the room in utter disarray, pieces hanging off while others had been torn away hazardously, "Blimey," the Doctor remarked, looking around briefly, "Do you _always_ leave things in such a mess?"

"Definitely sabotage," Amara commented, eyeing the engine as she folded her arms over her chest, inspecting the equipment.

"Oh my God!" the captain gaped, charging past the Doctor to storm into the room, looking around aghast.

"What the hell _happened_?" the older man demanded, marching over to the remains of the engine; wires, casings, springs... it was a mess, steaming and hissing – very much destroyed.

"Oh, it's wrecked," the first man picked up a piece and dropped it.

"Pretty efficiently too," the Doctor commented, looking closely at the engine, "Someone _knew_ what they were doing."

"We have a nyaff in our midst," Amara wandered over to a computer terminal that was attached to the wreckage, her mind worrying that someone had done _purposely_ damaged the ship, and in turn, hindered any chance at their escape... frowning, she began to furiously type away to find out where they were _exactly_ , her fingers puncturing the keys with poised ferocity.

"You think someone did this on purpose?" Martha glanced at the Doctor, realisation what he was implying.

Amara gave a firm nod, frowning at the computer terminal as she continued to type, "Oh, absolutely!" she told Martha in assured confidence, there was no other alternative, someone had to have instigated it.

"Where's Korwin?" the captain asked, turning to glance at the members of the crew who were stood behind her, "Has anyone heard from him or Ashton?"

"No," the older man shook his head.

"Korwin?" the captain spoke into the nearest intercom, "Ashton? Where are you?" there was no response, only a fizzing, prolonged silence, "Korwin, can you answer?" still, no response cam. Sighing, she moved away from the intercom to turn back to face her crew again, "Where the hell is he? He should be up here?"

"Korwin?" the captain spoke into an intercom, "Ashton? Where are you?" there was no response, "Korwin, can you answer?" still, there was no response. She pushed away from the intercom turning to her crew, "Where the _hell_ is he? He should be up here!"

"No way... would you look at that," Amara breathed, gaping at the computer in awe, "Ho-oh, we're in the Torajji system!" she glanced at Martha with a wide grin, "You're a long way from home, Martha."

"Half a Universe away," the Doctor chimed with a smile.

"Yeah," Martha breathed in sarcasm, wondering how they both be so calm considering the predicament they'd landed themselves in, "Feels it."

Amara gave her a sympathetic smile, wondering if the woman regretted deciding to travel with the Doctor when it would result in her being _so_ far from home. It always seemed to amaze her that so many willingly travelled with the Doctor without giving much thought to where they would actually end up in the long run.

"And... you're still using energy scoops for fusion?" the Doctor eyed the captain for a long moment, his words drawing Amara's attention immediately, "Hasn't that been outlawed yet?"

Sending the crew a firm look, she didn't like the exchange of guilty expression upon their faces either which confirmed what the Doctor had said.. _fusion scooping the Sun_.

"We're due to upgrade next docking," the captain dismissed, waving him off as she moved to approached her gathered crew, "Scannell, engine report."

The older man, Scannell, approached the computer Amara was tinkering at, pressing a few buttons to scan it. Soon enough, it gave several beeps. "No response," he sighed, moving over to the engine.

"What?" the captain demanded in outrage.

"Oh, come on!" Amara wheeled around before striding over the engine, scoffing at the state it was in, "I mean, look at it! _Burnt out!_ "

"She's right," Scannell sighed, rubbing a hand across his face, examining some wires protruding from the wreck of the engine, "They're burnt out, the controls are wrecked... I can't get them back online."

"Oh, come on!" the Doctor pulled off his brainy specs with a scoff, "Auxiliary engines! Every craft's got auxiliaries!" he boasted joyously.

"We don't have access from here," the captain frowned as she shook her head, not seeing how to repair was even possible, considering the severe disadvantage they were in. "The auxiliary controls are in _front_ of the ship."

"Yeah, with _twenty-nine_ password sealed doors between us and them," Scannell explained in exasperation, "You'll _never_ get there in time."

"Can't you override the doors?" Martha wondered aloud.

"No," Scannell gave a firm shake of his head, "Sealed closure means what it says... they're all deadlock sealed."

"No sonic available then," Amara mused, knowing they _had_ to be some way to bypass the seals to get to the front of the ship to restart the engines.

" _Nothing's_ any use," Scannell argued with a frown, "We've got _no_ engines, _no_ time, and _no_ chance."

"A realist, eh?" Amara gave a deep sigh, brow furrowed as she regarded the man before her, "Ever thought of becoming an optimist? It much more fun."

"Oh, listen to you!" the Doctor chided with a shake of his head, "Defeated before you've even started! Where's your Dunkirk spirit?" he twirled to face the captain, "Who's got the door passwords?"

"They're randomly generated," the younger man interjected as she stepped forward, "Reckon I know most of 'em... sorry, Riley Vashti."

Amara grinned, "Bonjourno, Riley Vashti!"

"Then what're you waiting for Riley Vashti, get on it!"

"Well, it's a two person job," Riley explained, moving to pick up a rather large backpack, his hands finding an equally large magnetic clamp, "One it takes to answer the questions, and the other to carry this," he pulled the kit onto his back, sighing deeply, "The oldest and cheapest security system around, eh captain?"

"Reliable and simple, just like you, eh Riley?" the captain jested, sending him a small smile.

"Try and be helpful, get abuse," he gave a breathless laugh, "Nice!"

"I'll help you," Martha moved towards Riley to take the clamp from him, she paused when she saw the look Amara was giving, concern lacing her "Make myself useful."

"It's remotely controlled by computer panel. That's why it needs two," he explained, moving towards the first of the sealed doors, waiting for Martha.

"Be careful!" the Doctor called out.

Unlike the Time Lord, Amara grabbed Martha's arm and pulled her into a tight hug, "Just try and stay safe, all right?" she told her earnestly, holding her at arm's length. She couldn't help but feel something was going to go wrong, she had an eerily unsettling feeling about being trapped aboard the ship.

"You too," Martha smiled at her words, nodding and squeezing her arm before moving to follow Riley, "The both of you."

Watching the pair depart was interrupted by a male voice fluttering over the intercom, "McDonnell? It's Ashton."

The captain, McDonnell, rushed over to the intercom immediately, "Where are you? Is Korwin with you?"

"Get up to the med-centre NOW!"

Upon hearing his tone of voice, McDonnell immediately ran out of the room, spurring the Doctor and Amara to follow, leaving Scannell to deal with the wrecked engine.

"Love a bit of legwork!" Amara sighed, her hand tightly clasped in the Doctor's as they bounded along after the captain, "Always running, but love it! Endlessly!"

" _Impact in thirty-four thirty-one_."

* * *

Sprinting into the med-centre, they found a man who was presumably Korwin thrashing about on a bed, screaming and writhing in agony, his eyes squeezed shut as an another man, Ahston and a woman tried to restrain him.

"Argh!" Korwin screamed in outrage, writhing in agony, "Stop it!"

"Korwin! The woman let out in frustration, fighting to hold him down, "It's Abi! Open your eyes, I need to take a look at you!" she pleaded with him, though, seemed to get no where due to his defiance.

"Korwin!" McDonnell shouted as she sprinted over to him, "What's _happened?_ Is he okay?"

Amara stared as Korwin continued wriggle about on the bed, "Oh, God!" he cried out, thrashing about in agonising pain, "Help me! It's _burning_ me!"

"How long's he been like this?"

Abi looked up at the Doctor, "Ashton just brought him in."

Pulling out his sonic, the Doctor moved to scan him which served to panic McDonnell even more, "What are you doing?" she demanded in outrage, moving towards Korwin immediately as she sent the Doctor a warning glare.

The Doctor pulled out the sonic and began to scan him, McDonnell panicking, "What are you _doing_?" she demanded, moving towards Korwin.

Korwin cried out again, McDonnell moving to touch him as the Doctor pulled the sonic back, eyes widening suddenly, "Don't get _too_ close..." he told her hurriedly after seeing the results.

McDonnell moved past Ashton to stand nearing to Korwin, ignoring the Doctor's warning, "Don't be so stupid, that's my _husband_!"

"And he's just sabotaged our ship!" Ashton countered with a frown.

"Nyaff! Nark! Nudnik!" Amara exclaimed smugly, unable to contain herself at what she was hearing, undeniably pleased with her for having perceived the façade presenting in front of them. "I denounced it so."

McDonnell's eyes widened in horror, "What?"

"He went _mad_ ," Ashton shook his head incredulously, "He set the ship to secure closure, then he set the heat pulse to melt the controls."

"No way! He wouldn't _do_ that!"

Ashton gave a deep sigh, "I _saw_ it happen, Captain."

"Korwin?" the Doctor tried, tucking away his sonic as he moved towards the man in concern, "Korwin, open your eyes for me a second..."

"I can't!" he cried out, gritting his teeth through the pain.

"Course you can, go on," Amara encouraged gently, folding her arms as she looked up at the readings on the monitor screen, "... Go on."

"Don't make me look at you!" he cried out, " _Please_!"

Amara eyed a sedative dart gun on a tray when Korwin began to struggle, writhing more frequently upon the bed. Glancing at Abi, she wiggling the gun in front of her face, "Sedative?" Abi nodded her head as Amara moved to inject Korwin, watching as the man immediately calmed.

The Doctor frowned as he leaned against the bed, crossing his arms in thought, "Rising body temperature, unusual energy readings..." he trailed off, addressing Amara more than anyone else in the room, knowing she would be the more likely out of the group to understand him. He nodded to the stasis chamber Korwin was upon, "Stasis chamber... I do _love_ a good stasis chamber. Keep him sedated in there, regulate the body temperature," he informed Abi curtly, "And, _just for fun_ , run a bio-scan and tissue profile on a metabolic detail."

"Just doing them now," Abi retorted, continuing with her work.

The Doctor beamed at her, "Oh, you're good."

Amara looked to Abi, her gaze firm and full of concern, "Does anyone else have these symptoms?" she pressed, worried that whatever had 'infected' Korwin could be passed between the crew to compromise them all if given the chance to do so.

"Not so far," Abi replied with a sigh.

"Well, that's something," the Doctor acknowledged with a nod.

"Will someone tell me what is the matter with him?" McDonnell demanded from where she stood at Korwin's side, her eyes narrowed closely at the Doctor, glancing between Abi and Amara as well.

"Some sort of infection," the Doctor replied dismissively, not missing the disapproving look sent in his direction by Amara, "We'll know more after the test results. Now, _Allons-y_ , back downstairs. See about those engines. Go," Ashton made to leave but McDonnell remained fixed to where she stood, defying him.

"Oi, skipper! Amara called to her, "He said _go_!" she spoke as McDonnell sent Korwin another longing glance before reluctantly leaving to follow Ashton.

"Call us if there's news!" the Doctor told Abi as he made to follow after McDonnell, leaving the woman looking rather overwhelmed, "Any questions?"

"Yeah," Abi nodded in uncertainty, "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor!" he exclaimed, sticking his head back through the plastic sheet, offering her a wide grin, "And this is 'Mara," he spoke before rushing back into the hallway, yanking Amara along after him.

" _Heat shields failing. At twenty-five percent in thirty-two fifty."_

* * *

Tinkering away, Amara fiddled with what remains of the engine she could salvage, soldering parts of the engine back into place in the little time they had left, trying to ignore the slow panic that had set in.

"Abi, how's Korwin doing?" the Doctor called over the intercom, wandering over to it as Scannell aided Amara in trying to save the engine. "Any results from the bio-scan?"

" _He's under heavy sedation_ ," Abi's voice answered, " _I'm just trying to make sense of this data... give me a couple of minutes and I'll let you know._ "

The Doctor nodded, moving away from the intercom, noticing the frown on Amara's as she fiddled with a lose piece of wire, "What's that look for?" he frowned, tilting his head at her in confusion, worry flooding through him her expression.

"Think about it, Sonny Jim," she turned face him, blinking slowly in realisation before walking to the intercom, "You said it yourself, rising body temperature... abnormal energy readings... _think about it_. Korwin's not going to stay sedated for very long, is he?"

The Doctor sighed, "We'll just have to hope."

"No," Amara shook her head at him, pressing the intercom, she was adamant Abi wasn't going to stay there alone when they had little to know idea what was wrong with Korwin. "Abi, do you mind coming to the engine room?"

" _Why would I do that?_ " Abi questioned over the intercom.

Sighing, Amara glanced over at McDonnell, knowing that she wouldn't want to hear her husband's being regarded in such a way... although, she felt she had little choice. If she had the chance to save someone, she was going to take it. "Abi, you're not safe with Korwin," Amara told her firmly, "a significant rise in body temperature means he'll burn the sedative off sooner... come to the engine room, _now_."

" _This is ridiculous_."

"Oh, come on," Amara sighed, giving a soft eye roll, "It's entirely reasonable, actually."

"I agree," McDonnell eyed the woman at the intercom with a deep frown, not liking the anxious look she was wearing while trying to convince Abi to abandon her husband to his fate. But her expressions was grave, so concerned, dreadful... and she couldn't help but feel as though the woman had some sense about her. "Abi, it's fine," McDonnell eventually relented with a sigh, "Come to the engine room."

" _I'm coming_ ," Abi replied in agreement.

"What was _that_ about, 'Mara?" the Doctor stepped over to her, setting a firm hand on her shoulder as he frowned. He knew she was worried about the state Korwin was in, but he was more concerned that she seemed to think they were all in grave danger... from something unknown. "What's wrong?"

"You saw how violent he was when not sedated," Amara knew, despite the Doctor's unbelievably calm manner, something was seriously wrong. "If his body temperature is higher than normal, he'll burn of the sedation quicker which means the longer Abi stays there, the more danger she's in," she wouldn't condemn an innocent life to death by abandoning her with something danger, something they couldn't stop without knowing what it _actually_ was. "If there's a chance to save someone, why not take it?"

The Doctor watched her, evaluating her evident concern as to be trusted and that made his own worry increase at her anxiety to bring Abi to them. "I really fancy a Jaffa Cake, now," he murmured lowly, smiling when she laughed softly.

"Don't we all..."

Turning back to the intercom station, he pressed a few buttons to switch something on the intercom, "Martha?" he called, trying to connect herself and Riley, "Riley? How're you doing?"

" _Area twenty-nine_ ," Martha replied through the comm., " _At the door to twenty-eight!_ "

The Doctor pulled on his 'brainy' specs, ignoring the scoff from Amara as he began to look over the readouts above the comm. which displayed their location, "You've gotta move faster!" he warned.

" _We're doing our best!_ "

"You tell the wackdoo, Martha Jones!" Amara encouraged, smirking as she fiddle with some of loose wire.

" _Find the next number in the sequence_ ," Riley's confused voice echoed through the comm., " _Three-one-three, three-three-one, three-six-seven..._ what?"

" _You said the crew_ knew _all the answers!_ " Martha exclaimed, obviously forgetting they could still be heard over the intercom.

" _The crew's changed since we set the questions_."

" _You're joking…_ " Martha breathed out in exasperation.

"Three-seven-nine!" the Doctor exclaimed immediately, a wide grin stretching across his face.

" _What?_ " Martha demanded.

"Ugh," Amara made a disgusted face as she turned her nose up at the mention of mathematics, "The dreadful sequence of happy primes... what dismal torture."

" _Happy_ what _?_ " Martha's voice repeated.

"Just _enter_ it!" the Doctor let out tersely.

" _Are you_ sure _?_ " came Riley's worried tones over the comm., " _We only get_ one _chance!_ "

The Doctor gave an overdramatic sigh, before explaining clearly, "A number that reduces to one when you take the sum of the square of its digits and continue iterating till it yields one is a happy number. Anything else, isn't. A happy prime, a number that's both happy and prime...," he concluded with a grin, wiggling his brows at Amara who simply rolled her eyes, "now type it in!"

McDonnel sent the pair of them a dark look which roused only amusement from the Doctor, "Talk about dumbing down!" he flashed a grin before frowning again, "Don't they teach recreational mathematics anymore?"

"Good riddance," Amara scoffed, "They're bloody awful."

"Oi!" the Doctor argued.

"Get over it, Casanova," Amara brushed him off as a thump of clamp locking on followed by a door sliding aside echoed over the intercom to meet their ears.

Martha's voice soon filtered through the engine room, jubilant and elated: " _We're through!_ "

"Brilliant!" Amara called out, smiling softly.

"Keep moving," the Doctor added, "Fast as you can."

Setting down the tool she was holding, Amara pressed the button on the comm. firmly, "Martha," she started, swallowing thickly as the anxiety seeped into her voice, "Be careful, all right? There might be something else on board this ship, so just watch your back."

" _Any time you wanna unnerve me, feel free!_ " Martha remarked dryly, a nervous laugh leaving her throat as she spoke.

"Duly noted, Wendy."

"Will do, thanks!" the Doctor replied before switching off the intercom, turning his attention back to the engine.

" _Impact in thirty-fifty._ "

* * *

Amara smiled as she regarded where Abi had positioned herself, brow furrowed in deep thought as she sat going over the results after having argued why there was no need for her to be in the engine room of all places when she was better off with Korwin.

Amara didn't explain to her why... she doubted she would ever believe her even if she did. "We're in need of a backup, Space Cowboy," she told the Doctor, eyeing the remaining crew who were stood over the wreck of an engine.

Despite not wanting to admit it, the Doctor couldn't help but agree, "In case they don't reach the auxiliary engines in time... come on! _Think!_ " he implored desperately, looking at the crew for some initiative, "Resources, what have we got?"

"We've got a Time Lord, if that helps," Amara commented with a wry smile, winking at the Doctor beside her, "Just a little bit foxy, wouldn't you say?"

The Doctor beamed at her, "Cheeky."

"It's de-lish and you know it."

" _'Mara?_ " Martha's voice sounded over the intercom once more, " _Doctor?_ "

"What is it _now_?" he turned to glance at the comm. again, slightly annoyed that their teasing had been interrupted by another questions undoubtedly.

"Don't be so rude," Amara chastised with a frown.

" _Who had the most number ones, Elvis or the Beatles? That's pre-download_."

"Elvis! Amara exclaimed at the intercom.

"No!" the Doctor rounded on her with a scoff, "The Beatles!"

Amara rolled her eyes, "Absolutely not!"

" _Wait!_ " he interjected with a furrowed brow, "Um... um," he glanced around frantically, trying to rack his brain for an answer before he started to smack himself on the back of his head, hoping to generate an answer.

"Stop it, Kylie," Amara warned, slapping his hands away.

"Oh, for goodness sake," the Doctor ground out in frustration, "What was that remix? Um... I don't know..." he trailed off, conflicted.

"Bloody Elvis!"

The Doctor frowned, "We're a bit busy, Martha!"

" _Fine,_ " Martha snapped with a huff, vexed by his disregard to help them, " _I'll ask someone else!_ "

"Now, where was I?" the Doctor frowned in thought, turning away from the comm. again, " _Here comes the sun_... no, resources."

" _'Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter, little darling, it feels like years since it's been here... here comes the sun, and I say, it's all right...'_ " Amara hummed in amusement before a sudden thought dawned on her, "Wait a minute, the power's still working," she frowned in thought, tapping her chin, "That definitely means a generator's going, and if we can harness that- "

"We can use the generator to jump start the ship!" McDonnell cut in with a wide gaze.

"Exactly!" the Doctor exclaimed, moving to yank Amara into a celebratory squeeze, beaming in triumph, "Brilliant! At the very _least_ , it'll buy us some more time."

Amara laughed in good-naturedly, " _Wunderbar!_ "

" _Isn't it?_ " the Doctor beamed with a wide smile, "What am I saying? Of course, it is!" he held her at arm's length, grinning, " _See!_ Tiny glimmer of hope, that's all we need 'Mara!"

"All we need is _faith_ and _trust_ , porcupine," Amara countered with a smirk as she moved back over to the engine, reaching for some more wires to begin her work again under the glower of Scannell.

" _If_ it works," Scannell remarked in slight annoyance, eyeing the Doctor while the rest of the crew looked hopeful at the chance of an escape.

"Oh, believe me," McDonnell sent him a smirk that made Amara laugh in smugness, "You're gonna _make_ it work."

At her words, Scannell skulked away, looking dejected and rather vexed at being put in his place while the others, including Amara and the Doctor, remained smiling widely.

"That told him," the Doctor laughed aloud.

" _Impact in twenty-nine forty-six_."

* * *

"Doctor," Abi called out, drawing the Doctor's attention to her as she rose to her feet, her brow furrowed in concern as she regarded the readings, "These reading's are starting to scare me..."

Pausing, Amara looked up from where she stood helping Scannell as the Doctor wandered over, peering down to the look at the results, whipping on his 'brainy' specs. "What d'you mean?" he asked softly.

"Well," she pointed several times to the reading, "Korwin's body's changing, his whole biological makeup... it's... it's _impossible_ ," she bit out fearfully, eyes widening significantly.

The Doctor took the reading from her just as a loud crash echoed from over the intercom, causing them all to wheel around to face the comm., "What was that?" he wondered with a frown, looking around the room.

Ashton moved towards the intercom, frowning as he looked at the reading, "It's coming from the med-centre," he informed them all with a concerned tone.

"Frankenstein's awake," Amara breathed, earning a fiery glower from McDonnell, though she found she was far more worried that Korwin had _already_ burned off the sedation so easily. "Sorry, force of habit."

In a mere few seconds, the Doctor was up and moving towards the door, grabbing Amara's hand as he went, "Stay here!" he exclaimed over his shoulder, "Keep working!"

"You'll pull my bloody arm off!" Amara shouted, finding she had little choice but to follow the Doctor as they raced towards the med-centre.

McDonnell, of course, stopped what she was doing and made to run after the immediately, taking orders from no one as she left Abi, Ashton and Scannell in the engine room. Of course, she had no intention of leaving her _husband_ no matter the danger he was in or the danger he could pose to others.

" _Burn with me..._ " a voice erupted over the comm., " _Burn with me..._ "

Tugging on her arm, Amara allowed the Doctor to continue to drag her along willingly with McDonnell following behind, slowing just in time to see Scannell trailing behind them, "Captain?" he called, racing to catch up with them.

"I _told_ you to _stay_ in engineering!" the Doctor glowered at the man.

Catching up with them finally, the man bristled, "I only take orders form _one_ person round here," Scannell countered, sending the Doctor a forceful glare

"Oh, is he always this cheery?"

" _Burn with me..._ " the voice echoed over the intercom again, spurring the group back into action, racing towards the med-centre once more. " _BURN. WITH. ME!_ "

" _Doctor, what was that?_ " Martha's voice rang through the intercom suddenly after several moments of static, the familiarity of her voice soothing Amara's worry. " _'Mara?_ "

"Concentrate on those doors!" the Doctor hollered, still rushing along, trying to ignore the worry, "You've gotta keep moving forward!"

" _Impact in twenty-seven six_."

Bursting through the plastic sheeting that separated the med-centre from the rest of the ship, to find the bed Korwin had been lying in now empty, void of an occupant. "Korwin's gone..." McDonnell breathed in shock, knowing fully well he had been under heavy sedation.

"Apparently so," Amara acknowledge with a small frown, folding her arms in thought.

"Oh my God," Scannell whispered, having turned to face a wall when he found a large, circular black scorch mark blasted on the wall, "What is _that_?" he demanded in outrage, finding his worry growing.

Intrigued, the Doctor walked over to it, caressing the mark upon the wall with interest. "Looks like endothermic vaporisation, an attempt of it anyway... ferocious," he frowned in thought, muttering to himself, "Burn with me."

"That's what we heard Korwin say," Scannell added with a startled look.

"It would've been Abi," Amara spoke softly, swallowing thickly at the realisation that woman would have died if she hadn't persisted for her to come and join them in the engine room. Without her, Abi would have burned to death alone at the hands of Korwin. She felt slightly relieved for having saved the woman from a horrible fate.

"He was supposed to _kill_ Abi?"

"What?!" McDonnell exclaimed in a cry of outrage, not wanting to believe what she was hearing – it was impossible! "D'you think… no way! Scannell, _tell_ him!" she practically shrieked, "Korwin is _not_ a killer! He can't vaporize people! He's _human_!"

"Maybe once," Amara told her with a sympathetic frown, "But his bio-scan results tell a different story, his internal body temperature was a hundred degrees... body oxygen had been replaced with hydrogen," she gestured to the reading in her hand, "Your husband wasn't infected, he was overwhelmed by something external."

Glaring, McDonnell strode over to Amara to snatch the results from her hands furiously, "The test results are _wrong_!"

"Denial's not going to help anyone."

"But what is _it_ though?" the Doctor's brows furrowed in thought, " _Parasite?_ Mutagenic virus?"

Amara cleared her throat, "Whatever it is, it needs a host," she murmured in deep thought, "Some warm for it to thrive in... but how the _hell_ did it get inside him?"

McDonnell sighed in frustration, glancing between the pair of them accusingly, "Stop talking like he's some kind of _experiment_!" she bellowed, hysterical.

"Where's the ship been?" the Doctor turned to face McDonnell as he slung an arm over Amara's shoulder, not liking the glare she was receiving from the captain. McDonnell, however, merely stared at him blankly, "Have you made planet-fall recently?" she continued to stare at him, "Docked with any other vessels? Any kind of external contact _at all_?"

"What _is_ this?" McDonnell bristled, "An interrogation?"

Amara sighed, stepping forward, wanting to try and reason with the woman seeing as she was so clearly distressed and not concealing very well at all. "We've got to stop him before he _actually_ kills anyone."

"We're just... a cargo ship," McDonnell bit out, turning away from them, distraught as Scannell moved to her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Give her a moment," Amara glanced at the Doctor.

Having recovered, McDonnell turned to look at the duo once more, "I'm fine, I need to warn the crew," she passed the results back before moving towards the intercom, "Everybody listen to me! Something has infected Korwin. We think..." she glanced back the Doctor before addressing the comm. once more, "He may try to kill someone... none of you must go anywhere _near_ him, is that clear?"

"Tell them all to come here," Amara spoke up suddenly, her eyes wide with thought – no one else was going to die. "They need to stay in numbers to avoid being picked off one-by-one... more chance that way."

The captain looked at her for a moment before nodding, "Get down the med-centre, everyone! Come here, _now_!" she implored into the comm. immediately, "That is an _order_."

" _Understood Captain_ ," Ashton replied curtly, " _Erina, get down there..._ "

" _Impact in twenty-four fifty-one._ "

* * *

Running a hand over her face in frustration, Amara tried to rack her brain as to how Korwin could have become infected in the first place; the Doctor was pacing while McDonnell sat against the wall, Scannell lurking near by.

"Is the infection permanent?" McDonnell looked up, eyeing Amara who was staring at the mark on the wall in thought, "Can you cure him?"

The Doctor glanced at Amara before sighing, "I don't know," he frowned, turning his attention back to the results as he continued to stare at them in intrigue.

"Don't lie to me..." McDonnell begged, looking up at the pair of them in dismay, "Eleven years we've been married. We chose this ship _together_ , he keeps me honest, so I don't want false hope."

Facing McDonnell, the Doctor sighed, "The parasite's too aggressive, you're husband's gone... there's no way back, sorry."

McDonnell gave a sad smile, "Thank you."

Amara frowned in thought; she couldn't help but wonder if she was to get her hands on Korwin and shock him, she could force the infection from him and into her body seeing as she would be able to fight it off for longer... then freeze her... "I can," Amara spoke up suddenly, an idea dawning on her in fright as she turned to look at the Doctor despite knowing he would disapprove, "If I can get close enough, I'm sure I could try and do it..."

"No," he shook his head, "Absolutely no way are you doing that. Not after last time, no, 'Mara."

McDonnell's eyes widened, "You can save him? Then try!" she shouted at the pair of them, obviously not realising what was at stake.

Amara sighed, trying to ignore the dark look the Doctor was giving her at the suggestion, "I _can_ do it," however, she knew that the Doctor would prevent her intervention at any given chance, "Are you sure nothing happened to provoke this?"

"Nobody's working on anything secret," the Doctor added with a raised brow, "'Cos it's _vital_ that you tell us."

"I know _every_ inch of this ship," McDonnell challenged, her eyes shining furiously, "I know _every_ detail of my crew's lives, there is _nothing_."

Amara tilted her head at her in question, "Right, all right, then why is this thing _so_ interested in you?"

"I wish I knew…"

"It's your fault, McDonnell," Amara accused, her eyes boring into the other woman, "That's why you're _so_ scared... look at the horror, panic within your gaze – your eyes are alive with it!"

"Stop it!" McDonnell shouted at her, glowering once more.

" _Doctor, 'Mara_ ," Martha called over the intercom again, " _We're through to Area Seventeen._ "

"Keep going," the Doctor called back to her, "You've got to get to Area One and reboot those engines."

Amara gritted her teeth, knowing that if they didn't stop whatever was possessing Korwin, everyone on the ship would die... and she didn't want that.

Her worry, however, lessen some when Ashton arrived, leaving Abi and the other woman from earlier, Erina into the med-centre with the rest of them, their number's increasing thankfully. Despite that, her eyes widened when she realised that Martha and Riley were still at risk.

" _Heat shield failing at twenty percent._ "

* * *

In his growing frustration, Riley immediately hit the terminal in annoyance, "Come on!" he glanced over at Martha, who had paused in her own movements to see what had gone wrong, "Everything on this ship is so _cheap_!"

Suddenly a bang echoed through the air.

"Who's there?!" Riley demanded instantly.

The banging continued which eventually urged the both of them to abandon their tools to go and investigate whatever it was that had followed them. Peering around the corner to approach the door, through the smoke a silhouette of a figure was visible. "Is that Korwin?" Martha murmured fearfully.

"Oh... no, oh my god," Riley breathed as the figure moved forward, Korwin, stepping through the smoke to approach them, adorned in a welding mask and tensed, "Korwin, what're you doing?"

"Burn with me..." Korwin growled as he moved to open the visor of the mask.

Martha quickly turned, slamming her hand into a button to open a nearby door, "Move!" she exclaimed, running through the gap made by the door into a small room to cower in the far corner as Riley followed her, punching the keypad as the door slid shut once again.

Once the door was finally closed, both of them allowed a sigh of relief to pass their lips until they caught Korwin's helmet through the porthole, his hand pounding upon the door.

Riley, panicked, began to press another combination on the keypad which opened the hatch next to them, leading to an escape pod. Ushering Martha inside, he clambered in after her, "What is happening on this ship?!"

"Never mind that," Martha managed, trying to catch her breath as she looked around, "Where _are_ we?"

Before Riley could even form an answer, the computer's voice greeted them in dread: " _Airlock sealed. Jettison escape pod._ "

"That doesn't mean us?" Martha turned to look at Riley, who seemed frustrated and equally frightful as she felt as she lunged for the internal keypad, in which made her panic, "Doctor! 'Mara!"

" _Pod jettison initiated_."

Upon hearing the announcement, Riley began to frantically type on the keypad within the pod while Korwin watched from outside the airlock.

Panic rising within her, Martha tried to small intercom next to where Riley was trying to work, feeling tears gathering within her eyes at the prospect of being trapped and having no clear escape.

* * *

Amara glanced around in hysteria when she heard the computer's announcement of: " _Airlock sealed. Jettison escape pod_."

"What does that mean?" the Doctor turned to McDonnell, but before she even managed to stifle a reply, Martha's voice was reaching their ears.

" _Pod jettison initiated._ "

" _'Mara!_ " Martha was shouting, and as soon as the shrill shriek of her own name, Amara sprinted off into a run, darting through the plastic sheet, " _Doctor!_ "

"No, no, no!" she called, almost tripping over her feet as let her heart lead her along to wherever Martha and Riley were trapped.

" _Doctor!_ " Martha shouted in uproar, " _We're stuck in an escape pod off the Area Seventeen airlock!_ " she exclaimed which spurred the Doctor to fly out of the med-centre, running down the corridors with McDonnell and Scannell rushing after him, " _One of the crew's trying to jettison us! You've gotta help us!_ "

Passing through the engine room, the Doctor's eyes widened when he couldn't see Amara, knowing she was rushing into danger without so much as realising it.

"Why is this happening?" McDonnell called as the Doctor frowned at the mere sight of the wrecked room, seeing that the engine was in a far worse state than how they had left it.

"Stay here!" the Doctor commanded, pulling off his specs, "I mean it this time!" he broke into another run, wanting to find Amara before it was too late, wishing that she wouldn't act so impulsively while in the face of danger. "Jump start those engines!"

* * *

" _Jettison held_."

"Thank you..." Riley breathed a sigh of relief at having stalled it for a moment.

Korwin, however, raised his hand and began to type on the keypad outside the airlock until the computer chirped again: " _Jettison reactivated._ "

Martha, in her panic, began to pound upon the door as Riley tried again, "Come on," his worry grew when he could hear the rhythmic tapping of the key pad outside, trying to jettison the pod once more, "Geovinsci sequence... this'll get him."

" _Jettison held. Escape pod stabilised._ "

"You're pretty good," Martha breathed another sigh of relief, smiling at Riley despite Korwin vicious typing.

* * *

Skidding through the door, Amara paused when she saw Korwin stood before the airlock, tapping on the keypad while wearing a welding helmet, "Oi, Lancelot!" she called his attention to her as he turned to face her immediately, "That's enough playing silly buggers."

"What do you _want_?" the Doctor's voice rose into the air as she arrived, "Why this ship? Tell me!"

Ignoring the pair of them, Korwin turned and put his fist through the keypad.

" _Jettison activated._ "

* * *

"He's smashed the circuit," Riley breathed in slow realisation that they were trapped, "I can't stop it... I _can't_ stop it!"

* * *

"It's _your_ fault, Captain McDonnell," Korwin's voice growled, echoing over the comm.

"What do you mean? What's _my_ fault?" the captain's voice sounded over the comm. moments later.

Amara frowned, "What did she _do_?"

"Come on," the Doctor goaded softly, drawing Korwin out, "Let's see you," the man turned and moved towards them as the Doctor pushed Amara behind him, wanting her safely behind him and out of the way. "I wanna know what you _really_ are..." the Doctor spoke, standing nose-to-nose with Korwin.

"No," Amara pushed the Doctor out of the way to stand in front of him, hands raised in surrender, "Talk to us, tell us what you want... you _need_ to tell us what happened because we don't know. I _don't_ know," she gestured to the keypad, moving the Doctor towards it, "Tell me what _she_ did."

Thankfully, she seemed to be getting through to Korwin as he turned his attention away from the pod and the Doctor to watch her only. "Tell me..." she urged him softly.

The Doctor stared in shock as he looked to see her leading Korwin away, knowing he was giving her the time he needed to help Martha, risking herself to aid him. He swallowed thickly despite being aware that Korwin could attack Amara at any given opportunity... but Martha was trapped.

Amara had proven she could handle herself on numerous occasions, with Lazarus and the Daleks... but Martha was still struggling at coping properly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to scan the mess of the wires to try and fix the wreckage Korwin had caused.

" _Airlock sealed_."

"Come on, big guy," Amara urged gently, tilting her head at Korwin, "Why can't you tell me what _she_ did to you? They _won't_ understand because they're humans, and they take and take... so, _tell_ me what they did... and we can _help_ you."

Korwin tilted his head at her.

" _This thing's locked!_ " Martha shrieked, pounding on the porthole.

" _Airlock decompression completed. Jettisoning pod._ "

Amara glanced behind Korwin and panicked, seeing the Doctor frantically yanking on wires and crossing them furiously. However, it was too later and soon the Doctor found himself running over to the airlock door, glancing through the porthole to see Martha staring out of the pod a couple of feet away from him, tapping on the porthole and calling out for him to save though he was unable to hear her.

"I'll save you!" the Doctor called out to her, watching in horror as the pod disengaged, Martha growing smaller and smaller as it slowly descending towards the sun.

" _Impact in seventeen five_."

Behind him, Amara stepped towards Korwin and raised her hands towards the visor of the helmet, "You're going to need to show me, so I can help you..."

With immense regret flooding through her, she allowed the static charge to flow through her as Korwin's eyes opened, staring into her very soul while her hands shocked Korwin's body in a hope to urge whatever it was into hers.

Her knees buckled beneath when she felt a sudden assault savaging her core, tearing her apart as Korwin's body collapsed with a heavy thud, causing the Doctor to wheel around. "'Mara..." he started towards her when he saw her kneeling on the floor, frozen.

Squeezing her eyes shuts, Amara sucked in a sharp breath as she backed away, stumbling over her own feet to move as far away from them as she was able, "Keep away... you have... to..." she writhed against the wall, pressing herself against it with a wince, "She... _lied_ ," she pressed her hands to the side of her temple, wincing through gritted teeth.

"What's wrong... what did..." the Doctor trailed off when he saw Korwin rip off the welding helmet, blinking madly as he climbed to his feet. His whipped around to stare at Amara in slow realisation, her distant words echoing in his head: _if there's a chance to save someone's life, it should be taken._ "'Mara..."

"What happened?" Korwin let out in a groan, rubbing his head, seemingly fine and possession free unlike Amara who continued to writhe in evident pain.

Kneeling in front of her, the Doctor grabbed Amara's hands and held them tightly within her own, forcing her to acknowledge him, "What did you _do_?" he demanded, fearing that he _already_ knew the answer and didn't really need the confirmation.

"Don't worry about... me..." she bit out as the faint glow beneath her eyelids could be seen while the vein in her neck which had always been prominently blue shone a golden amber shade, thriving beneath the skin, alive, "Just... _save Martha_..."

His eyes widened in fear at how defeated she sounded, her voice hoarse and strained that it spurred him into a fury, "Don't you give in; you fight it!" steadying himself, he ran back over to the intercom, "Scannell!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth, "I need a spacesuit in Area Seventeen, now!"

" _What for?_ "

"Just get down here!" he shouted before running back over to Amara who had resigned herself to the most idiotic decision of her life.

She knew it was very likely that the sun would overwhelm her enough to kill her... meaning that a regeneration would also be on the cards, outing her to the Doctor.

Due to her moral code, she didn't consider that at the time... she sought to save everyone on board, and if that meant sacrificing herself, that was something she was willing to do. Perhaps, it wasn't the most suitable idea for her to selfishly use herself as bait into to free Korwin.

"Space Cowboy..." Amara ground out with a hiss, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt his hands seize hers through her blindness, "You _have_ to save Martha..."

"I will."

Amara swallowed thickly, "Promise... me..." she bit out as another gasp left her throat, the force of the heat inside body scorching her, ripping her flesh apart internally.

But she'd force herself to fight it, to keep it at bay until Martha was safe, until the Doctor had saved and then she would resign herself to her fate... she couldn't die knowing Martha was lost to her. She wouldn't accept _that_ defeat.

She could feel tears brimming in her eyes at the assault, knocking the wind out of her as she pushed herself away from the Doctor's reach, trying to gain control over it, trying to fight it off for the moment.

She couldn't bare to lose Martha, she _wouldn't_ lose Martha. She'd die before she ever let that come to pass.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi everyone!**

 **The new update has arrived - hopefully you'll enjoy it. It's a bit dramatic, to say the least. BTW I LOVE JAFFA CAKES - that could not be avoided.**

 **ALSO: nyaff and nudnik are wonderful words. Brilliant.**

 **I'm thrilled that many of you are enjoying the dynamics Mara shares with the Doctor and Martha - that was, up until now, one of my biggest worries but to know that it's very well liked is relieving!**

 **Please continue to read and review, the response so far had been FANTASTIC - I love knowing what you all think!**

 **REVIEWERS:**

 **Guest #1 - _Hi! I'm glad you like Amara!_**

 **Guest #2 - _Hello, that's not so far away now and I'm quite excited about it, to be honest. Definitely something I enjoyed writing - I hope you like the update!_**

 **Guest #3 - _Thank you - it's great to know what everyone thinks of their dynamic and it's always gratifying to know that it's likable as well. Rushing in romance ruins the entire set up, so I'm glad I'm doing some right, aha! The "flirtationship" business is something that makes me laugh and cringe at the same time. Hopefully you enjoy the update!_**

 **Guest #4 - _Hi there! I'm glad you like the dynamics between Mara/Martha and Mara/Ten, I was slightly worried that it might be too over the top to be believable but it seems to be going well nonetheless. I'm happy that she fits well enough too! Enjoy the update! :D_**

 **poisedrose - _Hello, and thank you for the review. Martha is one of my favourite companions; I think it's because I always pitied her as she never thought as she good enough in the beginning. I'm glad you like the Mara/Doctor pairing too! Hopefully you enjoy the new update! :D_**

 **ShadowTeir - _Hi again! The teasing is something I really enjoy writing about so expect lots more of that to come - I thought the sex teasing, in particular, humanised the Doctor as well. Mara is, what I hope, a strong narrative device that will keep the story flowing and interesting for you readers. I loved Martha, but always felt like she was pushed aside for Rose, so why not make up for it by having my OC put the Doctor in his place? I hope you like the update! X_**

 **Guest #5 - _Hi! I'm glad you like both dynamics that Mara shares with Martha and the Doctor. Yeah, the romance in this is definitely going to be a slow-burning one, as with any writer, you don't want to rush into it otherwise it ruins the story. Enjoy the update!_**

 **...**

 **Thanks as always,**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


	12. XI

"The wonderful world of space travel," Riley mused in a sombre tone as they both stared out of the porthole, his arm securely wrapped around Martha as she sat against him, "The prettier it looks, the more likely it is to kill you."

"They'll come for us," Martha persisted, shaking her head furiously, refusing to resign herself to dying in the middle of unknown space, "'Mara won't give up, neither will the Doctor... just you watch, Riley. They'll come for us."

Riley glanced at her before shaking his head, "Nah, it's too late... out heat shields will pack in any minute, then we go into free fail," he told her softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her arm, "We'll fall into the sun way before they have the chance to do anything about it."

You don't _know_ the Doctor or 'Mara – she's saved me _more_ times than I'd care admit, she'd never let anything happen to me," she held his gaze firmly, "She never gives up, and I believe in _her_... I believe in _them_."

"Then you're lucky... I've never found anyone worth believing in."

Martha frowned as she looked at him again questioningly, "No girlfriend?" she paused in thought, "Boyfriend?"

"The job doesn't lend itself to stable relationships," Riley told her through a breathless laugh, smiling slightly.

"Family then?" Martha fired right back at him.

"My dad's dead. And I haven't seen my mum in..." he trailed off in thought, brow furrowing in the seconds of silence, "Six years... she didn't want me to sign up for cargo tours. Things were said, and since then... all silent. She wanted to hold on to me, I know that. She's _so_ stubborn!"

"Yeah, well, that's family," Martha bit out, fighting back the tears as she couldn't help but think of her own family.

Riley sighed softly when he heard the quiver she tried to disguise in her voice, "What about you?"

"Full works," Martha smiled at him despite want to bawl out in hysterics, "Mum, dad. Dad's girlfriend. Brother, sister... no silence there - _so_ much noise. Oh god!" she breathed suddenly in realisation as tears dripped from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks as the fear began to flood through her, "They'll _never_ know! I... I'll just have disappeared. And they'll always be _waiting_."

"Call them."

* * *

Led along by Scannell, McDonnell rounded another corner before bursting into Area Seventeen, her breath catching in her throat when she Korwin, _her husband_ , stood at the keypad with the Doctor attempting to repair the mess. "Korwin?" she pushed past Scannell, starting forwards before smiling slowly, "Korwin!" she flung herself into his arms, embracing him firmly.

"He's all right?" Scannell pressed as he glanced at the Doctor.

"At a price," the Doctor gritted his teeth, jerking his head over to where Amara was still pressed against the wall, chest heaving and sweaty, shaking... looking it complete agony as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"What's wrong with her?" Scannell frowned.

The Doctor glowered at McDonnell, "She saved your husband so stupidly, that the infection's now in her... and do you _know_ what's worse?" he spat in outrage, "I've _no_ idea how to help her because Martha and Riley are _falling_ into the sun!"

Scannell's eyes widened it fear, "She'll kill us!"

"Cap... tain McDonnell," Amara bit out through clenched teeth, finding her difficult to even form proper words at the ferocity of the sun's life form within her body. It was too overwhelming to comprehend, raging away within her like a volcanic storm, blistering and hissing. " _You lied..._ "

"You saved him!" McDonnell cried out, overjoyed.

Korwin shook his head, "She should have let it kill me."

"No!"

"Now, you have to get out," Amara implored, forcing her head back against the wall, trying to not to succumb to the force of the assault within her. She forced her fist against the wall, beating it like an ape would beat its chest in warning, "Get out! Leave! _Get... out!_ " she wished she could have felt relieved at the echoes of footsteps that met her ears through the pain.

"What do you want me to do?" Scannell demanded, frozen to his place beside the Doctor.

"Scannell, give me that damn suit!" the Doctor snatched it from him in a fury, "We need to get Martha back, make sure she's safe and then we can sort the rest of this mess out."

"I can't let you do this," Scannell shook his head as he watched the Doctor adorn the spacesuit with the intention of going outside just to save Martha and Riley. He couldn't believe he was even considering doing such a thing... in his hand, he held a fire extinguisher tightly, ready to use it should Amara get volatile.

The Doctor, of course, had disapproved while Amara had insisted.

"You're wasting your breath, Scannell," the Doctor shot him a fiery glower, "You're _not_ gonna stop me from doing this."

"It should be me..." Amara ground out in a wince, "It's already in me..."

The Doctor shook his head, "Don't be daft."

He knew that as soon as he helped save Martha, he could then concentrate on saving Amara from whatever was possessing her. Martha was minutes away from dying, while Amara was struggling to fight off the infection's hold over her. He was torn... but he knew that if he let Martha die, Amara would never forgive him – she'd probably leave him all alone.

He also knew that she wouldn't let him help until she heard Martha's voice again. He _needed_ to do it.

"You wanna open an _airlock_ , in _flight_ , on a ship spinning into the _sun_ ," Scannell shook his head as his hold upon the helmet tightened in disbelief, " _No one_ can survive that!"

"Oh, just you _watch_ ," he ripped the helmet from his grasp in vexation.

"You open that airlock, it's _suicide_! This close to the sun, the shields will _barely_ protect you."

"No..." Amara ground out, wincing as she pushed herself forward causing Scannell to raise the extinguisher slightly, "If he... can manage to breach the magnetic lock on the out... side of the ship- "

"It'll re-magnetize the pod!" the Doctor concluded with a sudden hope, "Now, while I'm out there, the rest of the crew _have got_ to get the rest of those doors open. We _need_ those auxiliary engines."

"Doctor, will you _listen_!" Scannell exclaimed, grabbing his arm to pull him back, "They're _too_ far away, it's _too_ late!"

"I swear..." Amara bit out in frustration, "What little... faith you have..."

"I'm not gonna lose her," the Doctor vowed, "I'm gonna save both of them," glaring at Scannell, he ripped himself out of his grasp to move over to where Amara was, crouching before her, his face softening when he saw the pain stretched across her face. "I'm gonna get Martha back, 'Mara."

"You better..." she warned through a clenched jaw, hissing through the pain.

Pressing his lips briefly to the crown of her head, he straightened himself to walk right by Scannell and into the airlock, staring out into the sun as the door sealed behind him, his eyes ghosting over the landscape as it thrived around him.

" _Decompression: initiating,_ " the computer wailed as the remaining air in the airlock dissipated, " _Impact in twelve fifty-five_."

* * *

" _Hello?_ " Francine spoke tenderly, softly that it made Martha's heart swell at the very sound of her mother's voice in her ears, causing tears to gather in her eyes once more.

"Me again," Martha told her gently, smiling at the sound of her voice, having found she'd missed it in those very few moments, "Sorry about earlier..."

" _Is everything alright?_ " her mother pressed, her voice concerned and seemingly laced with worry at the numbers of calls from Martha.

"Yeah," Martha swallowed thickly, desperately not wanting her voice to betray her, "'Course."

Amara had always promised her that she would be there to protect her, and she _had_ to believe her, that was the little hope she found within the pit of her stomach in that moment – to not cry out to her mother that she was scared she was going to die, and that she didn't want to. But she knew that it would be a long shot for her mother to _even_ believe her. She trusted Amara with her life, as she did with the Doctor but in those moments as she sat staring at the sun, it was hard not to panic...

" _Martha..._ " her mother trailed off, the concern seeming to grow.

"Mum, I... you know I love you, don't you?"

" _Course I do_ ," her mother laughed softly, " _What's bought this on?_ "

Martha gulped, "I _never_ say it. Never get the time. I never think of it, and I..." her voice broke, finally betraying her to her mother, "I _really_ love you... tell dad, Leo and Tish that I love them."

" _Martha, what's wrong?_ "

"Nothing," she brushed her off quickly, not liking the fearful tone to her mother's voice, a woman she'd always considered to be so stern, "Promise."

" _Where are you?_ " her mother pressed.

"Just... _out_."

There was a pause on the other end, " _With anyone nice?_ "

"Some mates..." she told her, letting out a breathless laugh. She was travelling with her _mates_ , her _best mates_ , it seemed... Amara was by far her best friend, always looking out for her and, in general, a great mate. She smiled widely at the thought, "Best mates, _actually_."

 _"_ What _mates?"_

Martha paused with a frown, knowing where the conversation was going, "Mum, can we not just _talk_?"

" _Of course_ ," Francine sighed, finding the tone in her daughter's voice distressing enough to worry – she knew that her daughter only spoke that way when something was desperately wrong. But Martha was _too_ proud to admit it her of all people, " _What do you want to talk about?_ "

"I dunno, anything!" Martha implored, slightly relieved that she was actually listening to her for once, "What you had for breakfast... what you watched on telly last night... how much you're gonna kill Dad next time you see him. _Anything_."

" _Is the Doctor with you? Is he there,_ now _?_ " she asked suddenly, not accusingly but genuinely wanting to know why he'd left her daughter all alone when she was apparently scared, " _And that Amara, is she there as well?_ "

Martha could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks, "Mum, just leave it..." she bit out brokenly.

" _It's a simple enough question,_ " Francine argued from the other end.

"I'd better go."

" _Um, no Martha, wait!_ " her mother's shrill tones reached her ears.

"See you, mum," Martha, despite not wanting to, hung up and allowed Riley to envelop her into a tight embrace, pressing a firm kiss to her brow as she cried.

* * *

 _"Impact in eleven fifteen,_ " the computer announced, " _Heat shield failing at: ten percent_."

Reaching for the keypad, the Doctor pressed a button on the side of small chamber, the exterior door sliding open in an instant to make him recoil from the insanity of the heat. He quickly recovered, bracing himself against the frame, fighting the vacuum to reach for the controls just outside of the ship.

Missing the fist time, he stretched, straining every muscle in his body to fight, "Come on!" he shouted through gritted teeth, wincing, "Go on my son!"

He tried again: he stretched for the box on the side of the airlock, straining.

" _Doctor!_ " Scannell called over the comm., " _How're you doing?_ "

"I can't," he groaned in agony, trying to reach through harsh, raspy breaths, "I can't reach!" he cried out, wincing as he continued to stretch, desperate to reach it, "'Mara, I don't know how much longer I can last!"

" _Don't you..._ " Amara's voice started over the comm., " _dare give up on Martha Jones..._ "

" _Come on!_ " Scannell added, his voice sounding frightened, " _Don't give up now!_ "

Stretching and straining, reaching with another cry, his hand locked around the handle of the cover, yanking it off with a wheeze.

Heaving, he stretched again... until he hand seized the lever, hauling it down as the re-magnetization kicked into action.

Struggling back into the airlock, the Doctor stared as the pod was being dragged back to its docking point. Dropping to his knees, he allowed his gaze to fall upon the landscape behind the pod, he stared into the sun.

"Whatever you do," came Amara's raspy tones on panic, "Don't... _look_ at the... sun..."

But the warning came seconds too late.

With the light reflecting off of him, he felt fright rising with him at the mere sight of it, "It's alive..." he breathed out in worry, "It's alive..." his brow furrowed as he continued to stare, "It's alive!"

"Doctor, close the airlock now!" Scannell ordered over the intercom as McDonnell ran back in to see Scannell fully prepared to use the extinguisher of Amara as she laid flat out on the floor, writhing. "The pod's gonna smash right into him if he doesn't get out of there!"

"Idiot..." Amara bit out, rolling onto her front as she bit through the pain.

The star was overwhelming her far _too_ quickly in such a short amount of time. She couldn't recall ever experiencing a pain before like the one she was now – breathing heavily, she grabbed either side of her head and backed away until she was pressed firmly against the wall once more.

She was fully aware that she wouldn't be able to fight it off for very much longer... and with the star also being in the Doctor, she knew there was only one alternative for her to act on. She had to ensure that both the Doctor and Martha were safe.

" _Impact in eight fifty-seven._ "

Stumbling through the airlock doors, the Doctor collapsed to his knees as it ripped off his helmet, eye clutched shut in his new-found agony.

" _Airlock recompression completed_."

He fell through the doors as McDonnell forced the door open with Scannell's help as Martha and Riley clambered out of the pod to find the Doctor on the floor, writhing in pain.

"Doctor!" Martha called out hysterically, rushing over to him as she soon as she could, crouching beside him immediately, "Doctor! Are you all right?"

Rolling him onto his back, Martha's eyes widened when she saw the glowing orbs that were once his eyes before he clamped them shut again, moving away from them to press himself into the corner of the room, "Stay away from me!" he growled furiously, teeth clenched.

Martha quickly backed away in fear, but from where she sat Amara stumbled to her feet, moving blindly, "Where is he?" she didn't direct the question at a particular individual until she felt a pair of hands pull her in direction until she knelt down. "Space Cowboy..." she winced when she grabbed her arms suddenly, holding onto her.

"What happened?" McDonnell demanded, evidently confused at what was occurring before her eyes. "Riley! Get down to Area Ten, and help Scannell and Korwin with the remaining doors... go!"

"It's _your_ fault, Captain McDonnell," the Doctor bit out fury, writhing as Amara carded a hand through his hair, trying to calm despite her own pain. "You _mined_ that sun!" he shouted in outrage.

"Stripped its... surface for _cheap_ fuel!" Amara hissed, clenching her teeth in frustration, "You should... have scanned for... _life_!"

McDonnell shook her head, "I don't understand!"

"What are you talking about?" Martha demanded, afraid.

"That sun is _alive_!" the Doctor called, his face scrunching up as he fought the star's power and desire to control him, consume him. He was barely able to contain himself, "A _living_ organism!"

Amara hissed as the pain rocketed through, knocking the wind right out of her in an instant as she braced herself, "They scooped... out its _heart_ , used it for fuel, and now... it's _screaming_!" Amara called out in agony, collapsing back against the wall.

"What do you mean?" McDonnell's eyes widened in terror, "How can a _sun_ be _alive_? Why's he saying that?"

"Because it's living in _us_!" the Doctor spat, grimacing through the agony.

"Oh my God…"

" _Humans!_ " the Doctor screeched out in anger, "You grab whatever's nearest and bleed it dry!" he screamed as Amara grabbed his arm, "You should have _scanned_!"

"It takes too long! We'd be caught! Fusion scoops are _illegal_."

"You _shouldn't_ have done it!" Amara exclaimed in outrage before she grabbed the Doctor's head, his hand coming to rest upon her hands, "Open your eyes, and I'll take it away..." she managed, swallowing the pain as the Doctor shook his head profusely.

"No..." he ground out, "It'll kill... you, I won't..."

"If you won't... give it up..." Amara breathed, sucking in a sharp breath before allowing the static energy to pass through her hands and into his skull, rupturing the haven the star's energy had found, rousing his eyes open as the energy sped into her, joining its other half in her snug form.

Falling back, Amara groaned in agony as it spread through her body, the pain suddenly more excruciating, far more stronger than it had been before. Pushing herself away, Amara crawled for the far corner, pressing herself into it.

"'Mara..." the Doctor peered through his eyes, glancing around to see Martha and McDonnell panicked and almost in hysterics. "Amara?"

Amara had heard his voice, but she couldn't see him for her eyes were squeezed shut and she couldn't bear to risk their lives. She groaned, biting down on her lip to prevent the cry escaping her lips, the pain strengthening the closer they approached the sun itself.

"What have you done?" the Doctor's voice appeared right beside her as she felt his arm wrap around her, "Why did you do that..." he murmured, sounding somewhat broken.

"Just... leave," she tried to pry herself away from him, "Just leave me... and get out... of here..."

The Doctor scoffed as she fought off the star's possession, "As if I would just leave you..." he told her, helping her to stand carefully, "We need to freeze her," he told them suddenly, " _Quickly!"_

"What?" Martha almost choked on air, running to Amara's side as she helped the Doctor lift her.

"He's right..." Amara cried out, wincing again, "Stasis chamber! Freeze me... below minus two hundred to make sure it's gone... freeze it out of me," she screamed again, fighting back the tears that had gathered in her eyes, running down her cheeks.

They started to lead her down the hall as she crumpled under their hold, knees buckling beneath her. She hadn't been so scared in _such_ a long time, and it was terrifying her that she could die.

"You've got to it," Amara implored, grabbing on their arms tightly, "Don't worry about me... I'll be fine, I _don't_... want it to use me... to kill you..."

Rubbing her back, Martha tried to ignore her. "Don't be stupid," Martha told her softly.

"The closer we get to the sun, the stronger..." Amara doubled over in pain, collapsing to the floor just as the Doctor caught her.

" _Quickly! Quickly!_ "

Sighing, the Doctor pulled Amara into his arms, staggering slightly as she winced and cried out, allowing Martha to lead him along with McDonnell trailing after them as they raced down to the med-centre.

" _Impact in seven thirty._ "

* * *

Bursting through the plastic sheeting, the Doctor ran in with Amara in his arms as she cried out in agony as Martha ran over to the stasis chamber, shuddering at Amara's screams.

"I can do it," Martha mumbled to herself as she flipped through a book, relief flooding through her when she saw Abi running through the sheeting to join her, "Thank God!"

The Doctor moved to place Amara on the bed but she fell out of his arms, dropping to her knees, screaming as he fought to hold her up.

"Martha!" Amara cried out, reaching out with her hands blindly, refusing to open her eyes, "Where are you?"

"I'm here," Martha squeezed her friend's arm in comfort, the book in one hand as Abi worked away, "It's all right, I'm right here... don't worry, we're going to help you."

Amara twisted a bit on the ground, grabbing onto Martha until the Doctor pried her hands away which only raised her screams.

Glancing up from the book, Martha paused as she watched the pair of them kneeling upon the ground, shocked to see Amara clutched the Doctor as if she was going to combust any given moment.

"It's all right, 'Mara," the Doctor whispered, rubbing her arm.

"Minus two hundred, yeah?" she asked, looking over at the Doctor who gulped but nodded despite his concern, "Right, well, you need to make sure she's on that bed.

Hauling Amara to her feet with the aid of McDonnell, the two of them managed to get her onto the stasis chamber bed, Amara clutching onto the Doctor's arm.

"You'll kill her!" McDonnell exclaimed when she was Abi helping Martha to program the machine for minus two hundred, "Nobody can survive those temperatures!"

"Strictly speaking, she's not entirely human!" Martha countered with a glower, "If she says to freeze her, that means she can handle it!"

"She's not human?!" the Doctor exclaimed, his brow knitting together in confusion as he looked between Martha and Amara. Actually considering, it made perfect sense...

"Let me help you then!" McDonnell wandered over.

"You've done enough damage, don't you think?" Martha spat, glowering at the woman as she immediately backed away from her and Abi.

"Ten seconds, Martha," the Doctor called to her, wincing when Amara grabbed his arm again. "That's all she'll be able to take, you hear me?"

Looking down at Amara, he brushed away the strands that were clinging to her forehead, jaw clenched in fury as she groaned, "It's burning me up... I can't control it," she whispered, writhing against the pain, "If you don't get rid..." her voice trailed off then, growing darker as it sounded very much like the that had echoed over the intercom earlier, "I _could_ kill you, I could kill you _all_."

"No," the Doctor shook his head softly, stroking her hair, "You won't and y'know why? Because you like us all too much, and you're _too_ good... look how _many_ people you saved today!"

Amara gritted her teeth, fighting the star as she screamed, "I'm scared... Casanova..." she bit out, sounding so broken and frightened.

"'Mara, just... stay calm, all right?" Martha called to her, "You saved me, you've always saved me... I _won't_ let you die... _faith and trust_."

"I'll _always_ trust... you, Martha Jones..." Amara bit out, sucking in another sharp breath, spasms hitting her body sharply, "It's going to kill me...

"No, it won't!" Martha shouted back.

"Ready to go," Abi spoke up, typing away.

"You ready?"

Amara shook her head as another spasm rocketed through her, "No!" she exclaimed, writhing as the Doctor struggled to hold her down, giving Martha a firm nod.

The bed slid in, pulling Amara into the stasis chamber as her grip on the Doctor's arm tightened immediately, almost being pulled in with her, his hand trailing down her arm to grip at her fingers before it was pulled away entirely.

Stepping away, the Doctor watched as Martha typed in minus two hundred, nodding to Abi who then pushed the button the begin the process.

Amara's screams erupted into the air.

" _Heat shields failing: at five percent_."

The stasis chamber had barely hit minus seventy when it shut off suddenly.

"No!" the Doctor exclaimed, his eyes widening in shocked as he looked between Abi and Martha in accusation, wondering why it had stopped. "What's happened?"

"No, no, no!" Amara shouted in agony from inside the chamber, wheezing as she started to writhe again, "Martha you can't stop now! Not yet!"

Martha frowned, glancing over the controls in hysteria, "I don't know!"

"Power's failed," Abi informed him, "I don't know how unless- "

McDonnell swiftly cut in, reminding the Doctor that her unwanted presence was still there, "Power must have been cut from engineering," she told them, knowing that Ashton and Erina were trying their hardest to repair what was left of the engine. "Leave it to me!" she called before rushing off.

Screaming erupted within the chamber as Amara clutched the side of her while defrosting, limbs writhing all over the place as the Doctor glanced over at Abi, "Do something!"

"I'm trying! I'm trying!" Abi shouted, her fingers shaking as she tried to override the issue as best as she could, finding that it was near impossible to do so.

" _Impact in four forty-seven_."

In her frustration, Abi began to bang the computer in annoyance as she tried to get the chamber to work again, her panic setting in while Amara's screams rose higher and higher in volume.

"She's defrosting!" the Doctor exclaimed as Martha sat on her knees, trying to get into the mains of the system with Abi's help, "Come on!"

From inside the chamber, Amara cried out in agony once more, "Listen... Martha, Doctor... listen!" she winced as the Doctor leaned over the chamber, taking her hand in his firmly, urging her to squeeze through the pain, "I've only got a moment... before it takes over, so... you _need_ to get Martha and Abi out..."

"You're joking!" Martha gasped, eyeing the Doctor who hadn't moved an inch.

The Doctor eventually shook his head, "I'm not going to leave you here alone..." turning to face Martha, the Doctor swallowed thickly, "The sun particles," he told her, holding her gaze before his eyes fell upon the extinguisher in Abi's hands. "Get to the front and vent the engines... you just need to get rid of the sun particles in the fuel."

"I'm not leaving!" Martha argued, persisting.

"Casanova's right..." Amara ground out through gritted teeth, throwing her back to try and banish the pain, "Give back what they took... you've got to go!"

"'Mara!" Martha begged, glancing at the Doctor for help.

"Just, get to the front of the ship, you too Abi," the Doctor implored softly, knowing that Amara would only feel worse if Martha stayed any longer... she would never forgive if they lost her again. "I'll stay with her."

"But..."

" _Please_ , go!"

Stepping away, Martha nodded, "We'll be back... I promise," and with that, the Doctor watched as Martha followed Abi out of the room.

" _Impact in four zero-eight."_

* * *

" _Impact in two seventeen_."

Falling out of the stasis chamber, Amara crawled into a ball when the waves of pain grew more severe, her limbs jolting violently. The Doctor collected Amara into his arms as she continued to fight it off as best as she could, writhing.

"No," the Doctor tried to force her back into the chamber, struggling to keep her at bay to the protect the others. "You need to stay immobile..."

" _Primary engines critical. Repeat: primary engines critical._ "

Staggering to her feet, Amara pushed the Doctor away from her so she could force herself against the wall, "You need... to use the... extinguisher..."

Eyes widening, the Doctor look around to try and locate the object within the room, reluctant to even consider doing such a thing to her, "'Mara, think about this..."

"I _could_ hurt you!" she shouted, forcing her fists against the wall in outrage, "I _don't_ want to do that!"

" _Survival element protection.: zero percent_."

"Martha!" the Doctor shouted over the intercom, reaching to take the extinguisher into his hands as he glanced at the cowering form of someone he believed to be so incredibly strong.

" _Doctor_ ," Martha's voice drifted over the comm. to great him, " _What are you doing? What's wrong?_ "

"You've got to hurry, Martha!" he snapped furiously, "Just give the cells back!"

"'Mara," he whispered, feeling his hearts break, "Just hold on a little longer," he crept towards her, brushing hair away from her face, avoiding use of the fire extinguisher. He didn't want to do anything of the sort.

" _Impact in one twenty-one_."

Amara's back arched as she screamed again, her eyes snapping open in a sudden freedom as the light glowered from underneath her eyelids, shining as she felt her whole body glowing under the power of the sun. Groaning, she pushed herself away from the Doctor again, "Use... it..." she hissed, holding her head.

The Doctor reached for her in earnest, "You need to stop moving, and let me help you... _please_."

"Get out of here!" she shook her head furiously, her clenched tightly shut. "Just go, run... run and help Martha," she whimpered in pain as he neared her again, "Please, Doctor..."

He paused in his movements when she used his name, no nickname, the title he _actually_ went by. Frozen, he swallowed as he watched the woman grab the extinguisher from him and place the nozzle against her chest, "I'll be back," he told her, "I'll be back..."

She could hear him running away as her thumb broke the seal of the extinguisher as a chill flooded through her, spreading across her chest to soothe some of the pain.

Rolling over, she cried, feeling the pain overcoming the chill within her body, signalling that her time was running out. She had fought it for as long as she possibly could, tried to hold onto herself and her mind... for as long as she _could_ but the sun was quick to take out.

Every time she fought, horrible pain fizzle through her, lancing her, seizing her mind... making her think things she _didn't_ want to think... and soon, she knew it would make her do things she _didn't_ want to do.

Crawling forwards, she pushed herself up so she could reach the intercom, straining to do so, "I... can't fight it..." she screamed into the comm., biting her tongue while knowing it could be heard across the entire ship, "I'm sorry..."

 _No!_ She thought, screaming at the foreign body within her own, she'd fought for so long and always tried so hard, and if it happened to be the end... she would accept her death. Again and again, she continued to fight against the restraints that were holding inside her own body... but nothing she did seemed to work...

" _Burn with me!"_

It felt odd for her vocal cords to walk without her own sanction, without her granting speech, and without her being in control as her body moved without her will to make it so. It was strange for her body be moving on its own accord, opening door after door to try and find them, betraying all sense of morality she'd tried so hard to forge.

 _"Everyone must burn!"_

The roar ripped through the intercom, causing the Doctor to paused in his movements, panicking before hitting the nearest comm. button, "I'm coming back!" he took off running in the opposite direction, not caring, knowing Martha was fully capable of getting through to the others.

His eyes widened as the roar repeated itself, and he knew that it wasn't Amara anymore – _it_ , the sun was _in_ her, using her while killing her to kill everyone else. But he knew she had been fighting, had been trying so desperately to protect but she hadn't been strong enough.

He knew she was coming for him, he could hear her moving down the corridors. He could hear her footsteps, echoing down the narrow corridors from where he was running. Glancing around frantically, he silently thanked his lucky stars as he took the nearest fire extinguisher into his hands, fully prepared to use it without hesitation.

"'Mara?" he called out to her, "Amara... I know you can fight this!"

" _BURN WITH ME!"_

Pausing in his movements, he skidded to halt when he saw her, having stopped one he'd been located. It tore him apart to know a fighter like Amara had been conquered by the energy of a scorned sun. He gripped the extinguisher tightly, trying to push his guilt aside to help her, to give the others more time...

She stood up, and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, the look of resolve, of pain and sadness… and of love, shot through the Doctor like a physical thing.

Wincing, he pressing against the lock of the extinguisher to break the seal so he could then aim the nozzle at Amara as he slowly moved towards her again, and when he was a few feet away, he fired.

The foam scored hit after hit, clinging to her in its chill as she halted, knees buckling to force her to the floor, immobile for a few seconds, braced against the scorching floor as whatever was possessing her screamed, wailing in pain.

The Doctor gulped.

* * *

" _Impact in one zero-six_."

"Got it!" Riley exclaimed as they arrived at Area One, rushing behind Korwin and Scannell to find the computer bellowing warning about the current state of the ship.

" _Life support systems reaching critical. Repeat: life support systems reaching critical_."

Rushing over to two sets of keypads, Riley and Scannell began typing away furiously to try and reboot the auxiliary engines before it was too late.

" _Collision alert. Collision alert._ "

In a frenzy, Korwin rushed over to a wall adorned with switched, buttons and many controls to begin frantically pressing, pulling and realigning any controls in sight, glancing at the screen, expecting to see some results, his eyes widened when _nothing_ happened. "Why's it not working?!"

" _Collision alert. Fifty-eight seconds to fatal impact_."

Unexpectedly, Martha burst into the room with an exhausted looking Abi at her heels, "Vent the engines, dump the fuel!" she blurted with an exasperation suction of breath.

All three of the men slowly turned to survey her, "What?" Scannell demanded in outrage, not following.

"Sun particles in the fuel. Get rid of them," the men all shared a confused exchange of expressions, still not following through the evident silence, " _Do it! NOW!_ "

"We don't have to stand here gaping like fish!" Abi snapped, having finally regained her breath.

Not wasting any more precious time, the men sprung into action, approaching walls full of control to begin turning dials which, in turn, release the fuel into the atmosphere in a fluid golden stream.

"Come on, 'Mara, hold on..."

 _"Fuel dump in progress. Fuel dump in progress."_

"How're we gonna fly?!" Korwin demanded, eyes wide with fright once the fuel had been emptied. "We're stuck here!"

 _"Impact averted. Impact adverted_."

Collapsing to the floor, Riley's chest heaved in relief as Martha pulled herself into a sitting position at the prospect of _finally_ being safe as the ship was pushed away from the sun.

"We're clear!" Riley exclaimed, overjoyed, "We've got just enough reserves!" in their joy, the crew embraced one another, practically jumping for joy at having succeed.

Martha smiled too for a few moments, relief washing over her as she watched them celebrated before she suddenly realised, "'MARA!" she exclaimed, turning and dashing from the room to begin the marathon back to the med-centre.

* * *

The writhing had stopped.

That had been the first thing he'd noticed, and soon he breathed a sigh of relief when glowing dissipated from her eyes and Amara stopped screaming, her eyes resuming their usual verdant haze before closing, her body collapsing in a heap on the ground, spent.

Her breathing was erratically heavy, her body shaking like a vicious tremor in his arms as he held her against him.

 _"Impact averted. Impact averted."_

The Doctor looked up at the voice of the computer, "Did you hear that, 'Mara?" he murmured, smiling softly, "Martha did it... she saved us, we're safe," his smile immediately faded when she didn't respond, his face paling, "'Mara?" he shook her slightly, panicked.

"'Mara!"

He held her face in his hands, watching as she cautiously opened her blood-shot green orbs which roused a relieved smile from him.

Amara managed a smile in return before he launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her to envelop her in a tight embrace.

"'Mara!" Martha exclaimed, running down the corridor when she caught sight of them kneeling in the centre of it, moving to pull her into her arms, nearly suffocating her in the process. "What the _hell_ happened?"

The Doctor shook his head sadly, "I had _no_ choice..."

Amara coughed, sitting up while rubbing her aching temple, "Now I know how Scott Summers feels with his concussive beams..." she jested, making Martha laugh as she hugged her again.

"Why..." the Doctor trailed off in a distraught tone, his eyes watching her brokenly, "Why would you do that?"

"I'm just somebody," Amara croaked, rubbing her throat and swallowing to clear it, wishing they could avoid the conversation that would result in him returning her to Torchwood, "You're more important than just _somebody_."

Perhaps having a strong sense of moral justification wasn't always a good thing to possess after all.

* * *

Amara couldn't help but feel slightly smug at the entirety of the crew, wholesome and alive, as they stood before the TARDIS gawking at her in awe and marvel.

"This is _never_ your ship!" Scannell remarked in awe.

"Compact, eh?" the Doctor grinned, petting the TARDIS tenderly as he ran his hands along the wood in a soft caress, "And another good word, robust! Barely a scorch mark on her."

Martha frowned as she turned to face the crew, "We can't just leave them drifting with no fuel," she commented, hoping Amara would back her up; she didn't.

"We've sent out an official mayday," Korwin explained with a smile until his eyes fell upon Amara, the smile fading instantly.

Riley smiled widely, "The authorities'll be round to pick us up soon enough."

"And how are we _even_ meant to explain what happened to them?!" Abi wondered aloud, eyes wide with shock, still lost in the mad frenzy of the past forty-two minutes.

Ashton gave a firm nod, "They'll think we've gone barmy or something," he added with a furrowed brow, "I mean, it's not everyday a ship gets attacked by the sun possessing its crew, is it?"

"Can't see that going down so well, can you?" Erina laughed brightly, thankful to be alive more than anything.

Pulling open the TARDIS door, the Doctor smiled softly, regarding the crew once more, "Just tell them..." he paused when his eyes fell upon Amara, his words dying in his throat for a moment, "Tell them the sun needs care and protection, just like every living thing."

Amara made to followed the Doctor when he stepped inside the TARDIS until a hand seized her arm, yanking her back softly to see McDonnell and Korwin.

"Thank you for what you did," McDonnell breathed in admiration, grabbing one of her hands tightly within her own, "I can't thank you enough."

"Then don't," Amara smiled slightly, looking between the husband wife, "Just try and quadruple those eleven years, all right?"

Korwin beamed at the words, "Yes, Ma'am," he laughed, saluting her as he pulled McDonnell to him.

Moving to step through the TARDIS, Martha wasn't at all surprised by the interjection from a certain someone, "So... uh, you're off then?" she turned as Riley caught her arm, pulling her back, "No chance I'll see you again?"

"Not really," Martha shook her head sadly. She wasn't going to deny; Riley was quite good looking for someone from another universe, and she'd admitted she could've been persuaded to stay with him if only the Doctor would bring him with them. She knew the answer would be ' _no_ ' to that question. "It was nice... not dying with you," she laughed with a soft smile, squeezing his shoulder, "I reckon you'll find someone worth believing in."

Riley sent her a meaningful look, a smile pulling across his lips, "I think I already did," he admitted.

At his words, Martha hesitated for a couple of seconds before pulling him into a fierce kiss, taking Riley, the crew and Amara by surprise, "Well done," she pulled away eventually, giving him an awkward smile, slightly embarrassed, "Very _hot_."

Riley laughed as Maratha grabbed Amara arm to puling her through the TARDIS doors, walking up the ramp with their arms entwined as the doors clicked shut behind them. "So! Didn't really need you in the end, did we?" her grin faded when she saw the Doctor string brokenly, and when she followed his gaze, she found him observing Amara as she lent against the Y-beam, back to them and arms folded neatly.

"How're you doing?" Martha paused, frowning as she approached the Doctor carefully, knowing that he was clearly furious with Amara's reckless behaviour for the past forty-two minutes.

She wouldn't surprised if he took her back to that Torchwood place either, but Martha wasn't ready to let Amara go; she'd never had the pleasure of knowing someone like her before.

She'd persuade him otherwise, just like she did for her, convince him to let her stay and try to put reason to the goodness in what she did and how she saved the lives of _all_ the crew due to what she did.

She'd make him see.

"Now!" the Doctor suddenly rounded on Martha, an aura of cheerfulness crossing his features in a fresh wave, "What do you think about a nice trip... I don't know, icy skating on the mineral lakes of Koorharn?" he smiled widely, wiggling his brows, "Fancy it?"

"Hunky dory, tickety-boo..." Amara muttered in irritation, not moving from where she was stood, "Everything's just fine and dandy... top-hole, top-notch..."

"Wherever you want – I don't mind, surprise me!" Martha managed a laugh though her concerned gaze betrayed her, her eyes having not left Amara as she lurked away from them.

Frowning, the Doctor looked up to find Martha watching Amara closely, something that set his teeth on edge, "By the way, you'll be needing this..." reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a key to the TARDIS, dangling from a long twine of string.

"Really?" Martha's eyes widened, elated, staring at it in utter shock.

"Come on, Martha," Amara called over her shoulder, smiling softly, "You've more than earned it, though I think it's been given four trips _too_ late."

"Frequent flyer's privilege," the Doctor cut in smoothly, barely registering Amara as he dropped the key into Martha's awaiting cupped palms, "And- "

"Thank you, Martha Jones," Amara breathed, cutting the Doctor off to his own annoyance as her friend smiled at her, beaming.

Martha flushed, "Don't mention it."

"Thank God you're okay, I thought we'd lost you... I would have never forgiven myself."

Martha frowned, shaking her head as she set an arm on Amara's shoulder, causing the woman to jolt in surprise, "It wasn't your fault."

"I let you go."

Martha smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, eyes widening when she saw the vein more clearly than before, "I wanted to help, and it wasn't _that_ bad."

Amara chuckled, wincing at the dull ache in her head, "Oh, you pulled, I know... should have see that coming, really. Good for you, Martha Jones. Quite good looking, too..." her eyes trailed upwards to find the Doctor watching them, "Not like this one, all spiky... and I bet he doesn't sulk, because he's quite evidently sulking with me."

Feeling slightly awkward, Martha scratched the back of her head as she looked between the pair of them and saw the levelled glare being exchanged silently, "Uh, well... I better call my mum back," Martha pulled her phone out of her pocket, "Third time lucky, and all..."

"Three's the magic number," Amara added as she moved away, dialling into the keypad. Her gaze hardened as she folded her arms, leaning against the console, "Well, go on, have at it with your rant..." she'd been expecting him to rant and rave her; the expression on his face had grown more sour with each passing second.

In all honesty, she struggled not to laugh.

The Doctor stared at Amara for a moment, his gaze firm and pained, "Don't you _ever_ do something like that again, you hear?" he bit out, pinching the bridge of his nose in his frustration, "If you do, I'll be taking you straight back to Torchwood where you can stay."

The Doctor opened his mouth to continue speaking but she placed her hand to his lips, "Perhaps that's where I belong... what's wrong with saving people? Why _can't_ everyone live just for once? Why is the universe so desperate for death?"

"Now, I did what I did because I knew my body would be able to fight it off for longer than any member of the crew on that ship could," she stared him dead in the eye, sighing deeply before continuing, "When it got into you, I acted because you protect the universe, and you would've been more help coherent than not. I did it to give you a chance, as I said, I'm _just_ somebody."

He stared at her hard for a moment, obviously not agreeing with what she'd said, but he made no movement to speak.

Amara looked away, clenching her jaw as she mulled over her words carefully, sighing it defeat, not expecting him to forgive her entirely. "I couldn't save my friends or my family... they all died while I lived, alone to wither with my guilt... I trust you to understand that there's nothing worse than being destined to an eternity alone," she looked up at him then, catching him by surprise as she felt the tears brimming in her eyes, "I saved them because I could, because it was the _right_ thing to do; it felt good saving those people, to let them live a little longer and to appreciate the lives that they have."

Sucking in a deep breath, she composed herself, "If you can't see the reason behind that, then I'd rather resign myself to a life with Jack Harkness."

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, closing eyes before coming to stand directly in front of her, "You're making yourself ill."

"Wouldn't be the first time..." she rubbed her hand against her neck, closing her eyes at the infinite wave of pain that rocketed her head at her movements. She looked at him, watching him firmly as he stared at her, trying to figure out where his head was at. "If I die, it'll be for a good cause."

He didn't want her to go; he would never be able to take her back to Jack... he'd grown far _too_ fond of her for his own good, and he knew it would be the death of him.

Glancing at the console, he found himself conflicted – did he want to return her to Cardiff or did he ant more adventures? He reached out, ready to type in the coordinated until his arm tensed, hand retracting in defeat.

"I won't take you back to Jack," he admitted, making her stop and regard him with a wide gaze which made him smile, "I just... I don't want you risking yourself like that again, especially seeing as she brought it on herself in the first place- "

"Never would have said you were a bitter one, Casanova."

The Doctor smiled before holding out his hand, wiggling his fingers and urged her to take it, running his thumb along her knuckles, "So, a nice trip ice skating sounds like a good choice? No? Or did you want to go to Zazz?"

Amara shook her head, "Koorharn sounds good."

"Ice skating!" the Doctor beamed at her, "You skate on the water and it freezes beneath your feet as you skate! Mineral in the water come together to form a solid! Brilliant!" his smiled faded some when he saw the evident pain that she tried to mask on her face.

Reaching for her, the Doctor wrapped arm around her, holding her close as he took a deep breath, "You should rest, watch a good film, eat some Jaffa Cakes... I'm might come and join you, sound good?" he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled into her hair, pulling her even closer to him. "Just until you feel better."

Amara wrapped her arms around his waist, nodding in agreement. "Thank you," she murmured against his chest, leaning back slightly to look up at him, "You know I thoroughly enjoy travelling with you, right?"

The Doctor's eyes smiled, "Yeah."

"Good," Amara smiled softly, her fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, rousing a rosy tint to his cheeks at the feeling.

"Um, yeah," the Doctor pulled away, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to suppress the heat he could feel rising up his neck. He turned away, beginning to set the coordinates for Koorharn, "So, pick a film and I'll make us a cuppa, bring some biscuits..."

"Oi, Space Cowboy," he turned back to face her, a questionable look upon his face as he tilted his head, waiting for her to say whatever she planned to, not liking the glint in her eyes. "You must be a banana because I find you a-peeling."

The smile the Doctor gave was genuine, wide and full of amusement. Watching as she turned away, he laughed to himself before calling out: "Nice buns, princess!"

She wheeled around to face him, eyes wide in accusation, "You've been staring at my arse?"

His face dropped, panic rising within him, dread filling the pit of his stomach, "What? No, I meant..." he trailed off when he realised that she was joking with him, the playful smile returning to her lips in an instant that it made him feel like such an idiot.

"Just kidding," Amara laughed softly, sending him a playful wink in her amusement at seeing him suddenly flustered, "You make my dopamine levels go all silly, a touch of foxy, wouldn't you say?"

The Doctor grinned, "De-lish."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello!**

 **Here's the new one - I hope you enjoy it, MORE DRAMA AND TEASING _._**

 **The continued support for this story is wonderful, and the response I've gotten has been very promising for me as a writer - please continue to read and review, I thought knowing what you think!**

 **Koorharns, Charles Vane and Sally Sparrow aren't something I would have _ever_ imagined putting in the same chapter - something to look forward to in the next one.**

 **REVIEWERS:**

 **Guest #1 - _Hello! Just a bit... but of course, the Doctor's too soft to stay mad at Mara indefinitely. Hopefully you enjoy the update, thanks for the review!_**

 **Guest #2 - _Hi, music, often, channels meaning better than action... I just like finding ones that are appropriate, and they seem to fit well enough. Slow-burn romance will be sticking for quite a while, most likely into the beginning of season 4 - roughly around eps 4/5 when it'll change._**

 **ShadowTeir - _Hi again! Yay - I'm glad you enjoyed it! The teasing will keep coming and coming for a long while. Humansing the Doctor is something I will continue to do, and well, as Amara explained she'll try to save as many people as possible so... definitely a lecture, with fluff. I hope you like this one as well. X_**

 **Guest #3 - _Thank you!_**

 **Guest #4 - _Thank you, the answer to your question: yes, yes Amara saved the Doctor. :D_**

 **...**

 **Thank you as always,**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


	13. XII

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! So, this one might be cringy - I don't know! Everyone loves a good ol' filler, right?**

* * *

Amara had been lying upon the bed in the room she'd commandeered as her own. There was no use in her trying to achieve sleep; she was aching, yes, but she didn't feel tired and whenever she closed her eyes she could hear the star's possession within her.

After spending forty-two agonisingly long minutes on ship falling close to a furious, living sun that had possessed both herself and the Doctor, she found it had to rouse the enthusiasm to say she was pleased about going to Koorharn, somewhere nice and cold.

She could feel her fury for McDonnell still thriving beneath the surface, there was no denying that.

They'd all sworn not to speak a word of what had happened upon that cargo ship; it was more of the Doctor's problem, not hers but she wasn't really bothered about it either.

She just didn't feel up to ice skating. However, Martha seemed happy enough, elated that she would get the chance to go to Koorharn – wherever it was – and ice skate on a foreign planet.

It wasn't that it wasn't tempting to be going there, she hadn't felt an ache or pain in her in _such_ a long time. Another thing that was bothering her was that the vein in her neck wasn't the only one; on her right hand the veins in her wrist had begun to glow a faint blue, trailing up her arm...

She could feel herself becoming more and more volatile.

She chose to rouse herself when the TARDIS made the usual wheezing sound as they landed, and she got up, grabbing a nearby jacket that had been slung over the back of a chair. She saw some point in seeing Koorharn, just not participating in the ice skating part.

"Oh, I was just on my way to come and get you!" the Doctor beamed, halting when he saw her though he frowned when he took in her paled appearance, "We've arrived, mi'lady," he offered her his arm and winked.

He had to force himself to ignore the prominence of the blue veins and to banish all the thoughts of pressing questions to the back of his mind, knowing that she wouldn't tell him anything she didn't want to.

"Thank you, _slave_ ," Amara spoke, trying to manage a believable smile. She'd try to enjoy it but it was inevitable for the way she was currently feeling.

"I am not your skivvy," the Doctor scoffed.

"That's a shame," Amara sighed softly, "You'd make a particular _foxy_ skivvy."

The Doctor chuckled at her antics as he strolled ahead, her hand tucked firmly in the crook of his arm. "When was the last time you went ice skating, Martha?" the Doctor asked as they wandered into the console room, smiling softly, leading Amara along and trying to ignore her sharp intakes of breath.

Martha frowned in thought, trying to recall the last time she could remember partaking in the activity. "Uh, not since I was kid... I think," she looked at him, "What about you?"

He glanced at her briefly before smiling widely, "Yugoslavia," the Doctor offered, pulling on Amara's jacket for her before grabbing his own coat.

"When was that?"

The Doctor grinned, "Nineteen eighty-four."

"For goodness sake," Amara's rolled her eyes at the answer he'd given, "The Winter Olympics in Yugoslavia – should we start calling you Christopher Dean or something?"

Martha snorted, "Can you see him in a leotard? _Honestly?_ "

"And you wonder why I go on about being picked on all the time," the Doctor sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically, "You might want to wrap up, Martha, might be a bit more chilly than expected..." he passed her a pair of skates, looking to Amara, "Do you want a pair?"

"Wouldn't be wise."

"Right," he gave a grave nod, slinging a pair over the shoulder Amara wasn't on, "So, are we ready? No head-bangers, or re-enactments of bolero etcetera, etcetera – understood?" Martha nodded, and he grinned, striding over to the TARDIS door, flinging it open as a wave of brisk wind swept inside.

Holding his hand out for Amara, he let her step out first, beaming brightly as he followed with Martha on their heels.

"Oh... oh, my _God_!" Martha breathed in awe from where she stood in the doorway, frozen to where she stood.

Around them lied piles upon piles of silvery, glittering snow, sparkling as it covered the warm landscape all around them, the inspired bleakness and vast whiteness of the land interrupted by the lone sentries that were wintry figures stretching towards the sky, their wooden limbs fractured and wanting under the arctic sky.

Not very far in front of them lied an enormous lake, glittering an azure glower beneath the vibrancy of the cornflower sky, the Tuscan sun beaming down from above, the rays reflecting off of the lake to momentarily blind them.

"It's like Lapland."

The Doctor scoffed, leading Amara along gently as he looked back at Martha who was still stood in the doorway "As if.. are you coming?" he made a funny face as he stared at her curiously, "Thankfully, no Saint Nick here... just me, you and 'Mara."

Moving forward slowly, Martha beamed when she heard the snow crunch beneath her feet, "It's... wonderful!"

"You're welcome," the Doctor smirked, glancing around briefly, "Strange to think it's actually summer... that's why we're all on our lonesome."

The electric water lapped at the shore, causing Martha to spare a quick glance at the Doctor as images of choking seeped into her mind. "It's... _water_."

Approaching the shoreline, the Doctor sighed, pulling off his coat to set it upon the snow before gesturing for Amara to sit on it, "Plonk yourself down there, Your Majesty," he gave her a mock bow before slipping off his trainers, "Yep, it's water... hard enough for us to skate on, though."

"But you can't skate on water..." Martha, despite her weariness, sat down beside Amara to pull on the skate the Doctor had given her earlier, hurriedly pulling them on.

"Where's your spontaneity, Martha Jones?" Amara breathed with a soft sigh, rolling her eyes in amusement. "Where's your sense of adventure?!"

"C'mon, Jones!" the Doctor hauled her up before hopping off towards the glittering waves, "This should be a lot of fun... haven't done this in ages, haven't had anyone to do it with, really," he explained, leading her along carefully.

Together, they stood at the edge of the lake and with they hands clasped tightly in one another's, he practically tore her arm from its socket as he yanked her into the water.

Except when their skates came into contact with the waves as they rushed along, the water froze solid beneath them. Soon enough, to Martha's surprise, she and the Doctor were gliding across the frozen lake.

Digging in her heels, Martha managed to skid to a halt upon the ice as the Doctor was forced into a halt beside her, "How is it doing this?" Martha breathed, her eyes with utter shock.

Like he had down with Amara earlier, he looped around with Martha to keep her upright and steady, "Technically, mineral lakes can't freeze," the Doctor sent her a grin, "But luckily for us, due to the friction created with the skates it magnetizes the blades so that when they come into contact, they collect the minerals floating within the water..."

"Which creates the solid surface we're on right now?" Martha concluded with an arched brow, "By the minerals holding together?"

"Exactly!" the Doctor exclaimed, "Brilliant, isn't?"

"But it's safe, right?"

"It's solid all the way through," he kicked his skate against the surface just for good measure, " _See?_ Safe, Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt."

Despite the reassurance, Martha still seemed unconvinced.

"Martha Jones," the Doctor breathed with an over-dramatic eye roll, "I would _never_ put you in danger."

"You're joking?" Martha scoffed.

"Yeah, well, it was _unintentional_ all the same," with a sudden arousal of strength, the Doctor hauled Martha along with him as they raced across the width of the lake, leaving two sparkling paths behind them as they went.

It didn't take long until Martha had stopped her screaming, her squeals eventually replaced with laughter, gaining the eventual courage to let go of the Doctor's arm to go venturing off in the opposite direction, leaping and twirling as she skated, figure of eights and all.

She chased after the fish beneath the solid surface of the azure below, laughing to herself in her own amusement until she saw the Doctor circling back again.

Grabbing each other's hands, they began to spin in frenzied circles, throwing their heads back as they laughed, falling into hysterics.

When they eventually slowed, Martha couldn't see straight, her legs falling from under her as she slid to lie against the solid surface beneath her as she brought the Doctor down with her. Breathless and still laughing, the pair of them lied them, staring up at the cornflower sky in their own enjoyment.

Sitting up, the Doctor sighed and wiped his forehead, ridding the sweat that had gathered there. "I told you it would be fun... haven't had fun like that in ages, brilliant, really and..." he trailed off suddenly, his words dying in his throat.

Frowning when his voice disappeared, Martha eyed him as she too sat up, "What's wrong?" she glanced around to find him skating back to the shoreline with a speed she'd never seen. Looking past him, she clambered to her own feet when she saw Amara lying upon the snow.

Skidding the shore, the Doctor propelled himself forwards with such a force that he met his knees, crawling over to Amara in an instant to see her eyes very much open, and she appeared to be daydreaming. "What's wrong?" he helped her to sit up, adjusting her so she was sat against him, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Amara mumbled with a furrowed brow, "The snow was soothing the pain."

Guilt flooded through him in an instant for having ruined the serenity she'd found, "I'm sorry, I just... I panicked, and I saw your hand... doing its _thing_..." he nodded to it to see sparks spitting from the ends of the fingertips.

"Yeah," Amara nodded, sitting up on her own, wincing at the dull ache. "I'm fine," she struggled to her feet when she saw Martha approaching, "Don't stop on my account..."

"How are you feeling?" Martha ran over, eyes wide with fright as she kicked off her skates to grab from her shoes, "Is everything okay?"

"I think someone's still a bit shaken."

Amara rolled her eyes, "Who are you? My mother?" she smiled at the Doctor, accepting the hand he held out to her, "I'll be fine, just a little recuperation... nothing to worry about," looking at Martha, Amara tilted her head, "Did you call your Mum back?"

Martha nodded, "Yeah, she was a bit annoyed but she seemed to understand which was a bit weird... we've made dinners plans..." Martha looked to the Doctor, "D'you reckon you could drop me off so I can _actually_ make them this time?"

"I'd pay for Francine to slap you again."

Martha grimaced, "I still can't believe she did that."

"Martha has dinner plans," Amara told the Doctor after he'd put his shoes back on.

"Yeah, I know," he acknowledged, eyeing the pair of them, "And?"

"Well, don't you think she should have dinner with her family?"

"Just Mum," Martha added with a smile, "Just for dinner."

The Doctor paused in thought for a moment before bending to collect his coat, nodding, "Right, come on then," he moved towards the TARDIS, looping his arm through Amara's to help her along, "It was Election day, right?"

"Yeah, but it can't wait until tomorrow," Martha told them as the Doctor opened his mouth to argue with her, "Come on, I'd rather do something else first before going to dinner, like sleep... you know, _fun_ things..."

"All right," the Doctor nodded, "We can just drift about in the vortex for a while until you want to have dinner with your Mum."

Martha smiled at him brightly before making off towards the TARDIS.

The Doctor moved to follow until Amara yanked him back, "Are you all right?" she asked, not liking the way he'd reacted in the few moments he'd managed to find piece in his own amusement.

"I'm always all right," the Doctor smiled at her, holding the door open for her to walk through, but the smile he wore didn't quite reach his eyes. He didn't like the look she was giving, and his smile eventually disappeared, "You scared me... and I got spooked when I saw you lying there, I'm all right."

"You were scared," Amara acknowledged with a frown, "I'm sorry... but you should have left me to do it, it wouldn't have got into you otherwise..."

"Never."

Amara winced, "I almost killed you..."

The Doctor shrugged, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, "It wasn't you..." he didn't want her to blame herself for what had happened, that was the last thing he wanted; she'd saved the entire crew on that cargo ship and while he still wasn't content with her having sacrificed her like that, he knew she would most likely do it again.

He knew he'd never be able to stop her... perhaps it was the gender? All women he met seemed be similar in that regard, and he admired it. He just didn't want her blaming herself.

"Do you like the sound of going out to dinner?" the Doctor started, feeling her eyes on him as he spoke, leading her up the ramp to the console, "So, while Martha's having dinner with her mum, you and I can go out somewhere to eat... if you want, I mean we don't have to, but I thought it would be a nice idea, and that you might enjoy because- "

"Stop rambling."

The Doctor frowned at her, "Was I?"

Amara nodded, "I'm afraid so," she paused, shrugging off her jacket to sling it over the railing behind her. "That sounds nice, where were you thinking?"

"I've always wanted to go to Beach Blanket Babylon..." the Doctor furrowed his brow in thought, running a hand through his hair and successfully musing it in the process, "But it's up to you - as long as there's bananas, I'm all set."

She smiled, fingers dancing over the console, "Sounds fantastic," Amara agreed weakly as he started to put the coordinates in, "But like Martha said, can't we just drift for a while? I need to sit to shake this ache..."

"Oh... absolutely!" the Doctor explained, dashing around the console like a mad man in a frenzy, "Drifting's great, one of my favourites actually..." he stared after her as she walked past him, finding that he was still very much worried about her and because he knew she wouldn't be likely to tell him if anything was wrong. The Doctor retained the soft smile upon his face before calling out: "Nice buns!"

He heard her laugh, throwing him as narrowed look over her shoulder, "Are you a keyboard? Because you're just my type."

"Oh, honey..." the Doctor beamed at her, happy that he could still make her laugh despite the evident pain she was in. "I'll give you a nickel, if you tickle my pickle," in truth, he'd shocked himself with that last one but it roused another strong laugh from Amara, making her turn and face him again, amusement strewn across her face as her eyes laughed, shining. He laughed, too.

"I'm not even going to challenge that," she told him with a shake of her head, hardly believing he'd found the courage to say something that was so un-Doctor like. "You can have this victory, Space Cowboy."

When she moved to keep walking, the Doctor leaned against the console with a contented sigh, folding his arms in satisfaction as a wide smile stretched across his lips. He liked the teasing and the banter, he liked how playful he could be - at first, he felt awkward but it was growing on him.

He liked it.

* * *

In reflection, choosing to watch a pirate film hadn't been a good idea. She'd thought, seeing as Amara had become distracted the last time and how she'd seemed to enjoy watching films, she considered it to be a good feat; however, instead of being engrossed in the second installment of the ' _Pirates of the Caribbean_ ', Martha was shocked to finding her friend staring at the screen with tears in her eyes.

She didn't get it. _Didn't she like it?_ Amara had left it up to her after all, and she never said a word when she picked the film.

The woman was sat against the sofa with her arms wrapped around her knees, pulling them tightly against her chest as her eyes remained glued to the screen, unwavering and barely blinking.

"So, basically the Kraken's after Sparrow..." Martha was saying, trying to distract herself more than anything, hoping that Amara would brighten but then again, they were halfway through the film and her mood seemed to be getting worse the longer the film was on. "Because he hasn't done what Davy Jones required of him, so, yeah..."

"It's so... _fictional_."

Martha screwed her face up, "What d'you mean?"

"Looks at that," she pointed to the screen as two men began to fight top of a rolling mill, another chasing after a key on the inside, "Completely inaccurate."

Martha laughed as she looked; she always found them quite silly but enjoyed them all the same - it was better than doing research _all_ the time, and it meant she could actually relax for a while watching film after film.

"Poor concept of a film," Amara replied with a frown, resting her chin atop her knees, "They're nothing like the real thing, disappointing really when you see all these adaptations..." she went silent for a few moments, her eyes narrowing considerably, "They make them idiotic and pure evil, as though they can't be humanised."

Martha stared at her, blinking as she registered what she'd said, "You've met _real_ authentic pirates?" she had a feeling that was the reason for her evident discomfort at the depiction being shown in front of her, probably so inaccurate that it hurt, upset her even.

"Was it the seventeen hundreds?" Amara sat up in thought as Martha turned to face her on the sofa, the film playing on the screen, forgotten. It was probably a good film, but not in Amara's eyes... she frowned in thought, trying recall. It had been years. "Must have been..."

"Really?"

Amara bristled, wincing at the uneasiness of the memories associated with the West Indies. "Terrible mistake, something I should have really reconsidered, to be honest," it had been a sticky predicament, and something she felt she would _always_ live to regret for having grown _too_ attached, "One of my worst ideas, and don't _even_ get me started about Charles Vane."

Martha's ears pricked at the mention of the historic name, realising that much like the Doctor, Amara had travelled through time via her bracelet thing on her wrist she called a Vortex Manipulator. But the piracy situation was new, and she was beyond interested. "The pirate Charles Vane?" she definitely recognised that name from school.

"I never meant to go there, I ended up in Nassau by mistake," she cringed at the memory, having forgotten her time until Martha had played a film concerning pirates. It wasn't something she was proud, and it wasn't her finest moment either. Amara's gestured to her wrist with a soft smile, "My manipulator was on the blink at the time, and well, thing's got ahead of themselves..."

"You knew Charles Vane?" Martha shook her head; she'd met Shakespeare and Daleks, seen a man re-write history but she'd never met a real pirate convicted for piracy, tried and hanged. "You actually met a proper pirate?" she was in awe, and that made her want to travel with the Doctor even more, to know what was on offer if they travelled to the right time period.

Amara smiled, "He was friend and a good man..."

"I know that look..." Martha trailed when she saw a glint speed into Amara's eyes, having seen that in the familiar gaze of her sister's and her own for that matter, and then it dawned on her. "Oh, my God! You and him- "

"Martha..." Amara rolled her eyes; it had been an awful lapse of judgement and she put it down to bloody Daleks in the first place for her ending up in Nassau of all places.

"What was he like?"

"Charming, fierce..." she trailed off in thought before allowing a small smile to grace her features, finding it couldn't really be helped, "Everything, I believe, a woman would ever want in a man."

For some odd reason, Amara soon found herself divulging to Martha Jones the time she spent in Nassau and with Charles Vane in three years she had been stuck there. She had never wanted to tell anyone something that private, and she'd never considered doing so and yet, she was willingly speaking of the memories.

The pain came rushing back in an instant, something she tried to fortify and lock away along with the memory of him. He'd been the first kind face she had met after the Time War, and she would never forget it either. She wanted him to remain private in her mind, for only her to see, because in that way he felt alive.

The regret always came after - but it was always his fate, to be tried for piracy and hanged. He still died. Her presence in Nassau didn't change that, and despite how much she hated herself for it, she was grateful she didn't change history. She was content that he'd died.

But that didn't make the pain any easy to cope with. He still meant something to her, like Rose still meant something to the Doctor, except she'd learnt to move on and live with it as it was.

A fond memory of a previous life. Nothing more.

* * *

 _His eyes caught hers from across the beach._

 _She damned herself for being immediately drawn to him._

 _Her breath caught in her throat, but she held her head high and refused to blink, holding his gaze firmly from where he stood. She fully expected him to look away from her first, but to her surprise, his brow lifted in challenge as he hooked his under his sword belt, expression becoming amused as his lips formed a smirk._

 _She caught sight of him again, sitting in silence, observing. He wasn't terrible talkative, she knew that from his poised, watchful regard. She'd arrived in Nassau at the wrong time, and she'd be damned if she let herself get caught up in anything._

 _His lips curved into another smirk when he gaze found her again, amusement returning to his azure gaze. He was filthy from the weeks spent at sea, a few cuts dusting his face as he arched a single brow, challenging her from where she sat, surveying the room._

 _She turned her back on him eventually._

...

 _He hadn't moved, she could still feel his presence behind even her. He had barely moved all night, only to intervene when she'd been caught in the middle of a drunken fist fight, a careless punch landing upon her cheek._

 _Thankfully, she could compose herself well enough. She'd always been a good learner, something she had been praised for on Gallifrey. She was shocked to find the unfamiliar coppery taste in her mouth, realising blood had collected in her mouth, in which she then spat on the man's boots in her own fury._

 _She froze when she felt someone stood behind her, the heat from them radiating, his boots scuffing upon the floor of the tavern. She knew who it was without having to turn, who was responsible for the ghostly silence that had fell over tavern, the scent of rum, smoke and sweat filling the air as he came to stand behind her like some watchful protector that it reminded her of Koschei._

 _She tried her best not to acknowledge his presence, she wanted to think she was capable of managing her own problems; it had always been that way on Gallifrey. Then again, she'd known Gallifrey so well... Earth was so foreign to her, she was still learning the customs and_ how _to live. She didn't complain, however, when the men involved in the drunken brawl fled._

 _Turning, she saw that he had returned to his table alone, a bottle of rum sat firmly in his hand, hugged between his fingers while his boots rested upon the table._

 _As she moved to help clear the tavern, she tried her best to ignore the feel of his gaze upon her. Perhaps, choosing to work in such a public place hadn't been the best thing to consider._

 _"Amara."_

 _She was startled at his knowledge of her name, yet she didn't look up at the sound of his hoarse voice, soft like a caress that sent a shiver straight down her spine._

 _"You don't_ need _to dirty yourself in my affairs," she told him, turning away swiftly as she collected forgotten mugs._

 _He arched a brow at her, watching her carefully as the light illuminated the scar resting above his eye, rousing the want to run her fingers along it but instead, her hands curled into fists. "Why's that? You needed help, and I provided."_

 _She had to ignore him. She refused to answer him, because she didn't want to attract attention to herself... she wanted to be out of Nassau as quickly as possible so she could carry on with her life as normal. But the manipulator was a wreck, a complete mess of parts. Practically dead._

 _He stepped towards her, and she could the fierceness lurking within his gaze and when he raised his hand to her cheek, she wanted to slap it away so badly, but she felt herself smiling in her own betrayal while he chuckled._

 _She wanted to hit him, to wipe the smirk from his face and she raised her hand which he easily caught, backing her up against the wall as he pushed his hips into hers to trap her. "I'm_ no _threat to you..." he murmured lowly, his blue eyes gazing into hers._

 _She wouldn't allow him to belittle her, that she wouldn't stand. Rassilon_ never _did so without defiance, and neither would Charles Vane. "I'm not so easily afraid," Amara spoke, eyeing him._

 _He smiled, letting go of her though he didn't leave her be. "I know," his voice was low, drifting into her ears slowly, sauntering while his eyes remained intense, searching. Slipping a hand into her hair, he carded his fingers through it, smiling more widely, and he was careful when his hand fell upon her face, "You're new here, I haven't seen you before..."_

 _"A few days..." Amara whispered, holding his gaze firmly._

 _Charles smiled at her again, "Why haven't we had the pleasure of meeting sooner?" he wondered, eyes caressing over her in thought before he moved, lowering his lips to her cheek slowly his stubble brushing the skin before he stepped away. "Any trouble, you come to me."_

 _"I can manage, thank you," she brushed him out, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear, "I may not look much, but I_ can _handle myself."_

 _He smirked, "The offer's there."_

* * *

Poking his head around the door, the Doctor smiled when he found Amara and Martha talking, more likely gossiping. Waltzing in, he plonked himself down on the floor in front of the sofa, eyeing the pair of them with interest as Martha turned to look at him, a devilish expression upon her face. "Time Lord, you're just in time for this piece of juicy gossip," she grinned, and his interest was piqued in an instant.

"Gossip?" the Doctor repeated, arching a brow in thought, "I'm part of your girlfriend club, now? I didn't _even_ have to bring any food this time, so that's a bonus, I suppose," he mused to himself, wondering why a film was playing if they weren't watching it. Looking over his shoulder, he frowned when he saw what it was and his eyes widened instantly, "Oh, this is a good one! A bit far-fetched but good all the same!"

"It's _not_ gossip," Amara argued weakly, drawing the Doctor's attention back to them.

Martha shrugged, "Not everyone can say they've had their hands on a famous historic figure, can they?"

The Doctor's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling agape at Martha's words. "I never told you about Madame de Pompadour," he accused, finding himself to be rather lost and perplexed about the conversation. He was so sure he'd _never_ mentioned it to Martha or Amara - he hadn't _even_ told Rose about it either. So-

"What?!" Martha barked in outrage, staring at him in vexation more than shock, "You too! Oh, this is _not_ fair," she groaned, collapsing into the sofa with a huff, folding her arms like a sulking child.

So, the pair of them had had _lustrous_ affairs with _famous_ historical figures and _neglected_ to tell her about them as well?

His eyes fell on Amara in an instant, "She's on about you!" he hadn't expected that of all things. He knew that Amara had jumped frequently through time before meeting him and Jack, but not that she was well acquainted with famous historical figures. Why hadn't she mentioned it to him?

He eyed her cautiously, wondering why she'd kept it a secret. He frowned when he realised he barely knew anything about her at all... it was pretty much vague, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was keeping it that way on purpose.

"Who's' _she'_? The cat's mother?" Martha accused, brow furrowed deeply as she glared at the Doctor for a few moments. Collecting herself, she was soon smiling as she looked at Amara who was sat eyeing them both in silence, begging her not to tell him. "'Mara here got it on with Charles Vane, little minx."

"Martha, please..." Amara hated recollecting the memories; while she had enjoyed her time in the West Indies, it hadn't been all good. It had been volatile and vicious. "You're making sound like some ludicrous love story when it really wasn't." In truth, it might as well have been like that for how quickly it progressed. She put it down to her being lonely, and having no one. She was effectively lost.

The Doctor frowned, recognising the name before his eyes widened when he was absolutely certain who they were talking about, "The pirate Charles Vane?" how on Earth did Amara know Charles Vane of all people? Moreover, why did he feel so bloody confused?

"It wasn't like that. Stop making it sound like some dirty affair," Amara grumbled, finding that the conversation was growing more ridiculous the more Martha seemed to fawn over the idea of pirates. _Stupid filmography_. Her eyes narrowed when Martha made a face, "What was that face for?"

Martha grinned, wagging her brows in amusement, "I bet he was sexy," she could picture him in her mind's eyes - tall, dark and handsome. Mysterious and tender, and it was all _too_ exciting for her to think about, "All pirates are sexy..."

"Sexy?" the Doctor screwed his face up, "Not as good as foxy, is it?"

Amara smiled at his comment before allowing a soft sigh to pass her lips, "Seems so long ago, now. Quite sad, actually..." her eyes wandered over to Martha again, "Come on, Martha, don't look at me like that. It wasn't like a romance for the ages or anything like that. I was stuck in Nassau for quite a number of years because this stupid thing had burned out," she tapped the device on her wrist in disdain.

"I can't really imagine you throwing yourself at a famed Captain."

"He was a Quartermaster at the time, actually," Amara corrected with an eye roll, not really knowing why she was even bothering when Martha was only going to persist to annoy her. "And I did not trow myself at him."

Martha nudged the Doctor, "I think she _really_ liked him..."

 _Of course, I did_. She bristled in annoyance, trying to ignore her comment. "All it ever was fighting, drinking, sailing... repeat, repeat. Hanging, there was a lot of hanging too," Amara thought for a moment, smiling to herself when she found it hadn't been _all_ bad, for the most of it, she never wanted an experience like it again. "I suppose I did learn something, I can fight with a cutlass pretty well."

"So, you've snogged Madame de Pompadour and you had it off with Charles Vane," Martha looked between the Doctor and Amara, finding it all very hilarious that they had both been enticed by a famous French mistress and a renowned pirate. _Hilarious_. Why hadn't she found out sooner? "This is gold."

"You had Shakespeare!" the Doctor shouted accusingly, sensing Amara's discomfort at Martha's persistence, knowing that she was too kind to say anything to put her off the topic entirely, "Bloody William Shakespeare!" he could try to help, but he knew she wouldn't listen to him.

Martha scrunched her face up at him, "Hmm, that doesn't really count though... I didn't snog him or share a bed with him."

"Martha, _please_..." Amara threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Why are you so embarrassed?" Martha frowned, confused.

"I'm not."

Martha didn't understand then; why bring up the conversation if it was _so_ sensitive? "What's so bad about having some fun? I'd give anything to- "

"He died, Martha," Amara interrupted softly, her tone firm and grave as she closed her eyes, clenching her jaw in frustration. It was something she always regretted doing, especially after having saved of all McDonnell's crew... the guilt was astronomical. "I left him to his fate as soon as the manipulator was working again, I didn't look back. Why would I? I _never_ wanted to be there in the first place..." she cut herself off, biting her lip in annoyance, "In truth, I left because they tried to convict me for piracy, for being involved in his operations. I left him to die."

She'd never forgive herself for that.

"'Mara, I..." Martha felt awful.

"Do you _know_ what it's like to leave someone who claims to know you when, in truth, you _barely_ know each other?"

The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his own hair, wishing he'd never come in to a conversation such as the one he found himself in. He was also certain there was no way to reason with Amara courtesy of Martha's questioning, "He was a _pirate_ , 'Mara."

"And a good man," Amara countered, not daring to believe any different. "It was how you survived back then."

Martha licked her lips, watching her closely, "Did you feel the same?"

Amara sighed, leaning against the back of the sofa to reach for her tea, "I'm not gonna lie and say no," she saw no point in doing so when she still regarded Charles Vane so highly in her memory.

* * *

 _Reaching out, his thumb ghosted over the outline of her jaw, his dark eyes meeting her, a shiver running down her spin as she watched him smile, lips curving into a slow smirk, evidently enjoying the view._

 _"Don't_ do _that," she jerked away from him._

 _"Why not?" Charles smirked, "Can't I touch my wench?"_

 _"If you call me that again, you'll be finding yourself another."_

 _He laughed heartedly at her before nodding in amusement, "Fair trade, woman."_

 _He immediately pulled her back to him, moving his hands so that his palms came to rest upon her face, pulling her face in so he could kiss her. He tasted of smoke and rum, overpowering and overwhelming as his mouth touched her. His fingers swept over her brow as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers while a brief smile crossed his lips._

 _Amara pressed a kiss to the brand mark on his shoulder, tracing the lines with her fingertips after her lips left his skin, her eyes ogling the marks as she took them in._

 _His hand on her thigh tightened, pulling her against him more firmly, "Your man was_ never _bred to be a prisoner... I get locked up, I escape with any means necessary," his voice rumbled as he spoke, full of terrible memories when he felt her fingers trace the scars on his back._

 _She winced at the mere though of the hot iron being forced onto his skin, tearing it open with a single lash; she could feel the tears brimming in her eyes as she resting her head against his chest, her hand coming to rest upon where his heart lay beneath the skin. "Makes two of us..." she mumbled, rousing a chuckle from him._

 _His hand moved up her thigh to dip over her waist, fingers dancing up the curve of her spine until they twisted into her hair, fingers tangling in the strands. He didn't speak again, but never did he hold loosen and since having left Gallifrey, she felt safe and he would never know about that._

 _She pressed her lips to his chest, one of her legs thrown over his as she lied there, bodies cooling in the comforting silence. Tender and soft as his hand ran up and down her shoulder, calloused fingers rubbing circles into the skin beneath the pads of his fingers._

* * *

Martha was in marvel; it was rare Amara revealed anything about her past and to hear her talking so openly about Charles Vane of all people was something that engrossed her, and something would never get tired of hearing either. "If that's not romance, I don't know what it is," she breathed, sighing in contentment as she listened, finding the man sounded wondrous. She found she was jealous.

Amara sighed, "It was _not_ a romance."

Martha smirked at her, finding amusement in teasing her, "Every time he came back, did you- "

"He was a pirate," the Doctor cut in softly, frowning as he realised why she had left without giving it a second thought. She panicked, and didn't want to die. _A sane reaction._ He also saw the remorse and the impact of the guilt had had on her, and how she wished she had tried to save him. He knew why she'd been so desperate to save McDonnell's crew; too many people had died in her own life. He could empathise with that. "You were an advocate for piracy."

"I was trapped on Nassau," Amara sighed, playing with the necklace at her throat in thought, her fingers wrapping around the leather absently, "I don't do hot places."

Martha rolled her eyes at Amara, "I'd give anything to go to the Bahamas..."

The Doctor scoffed, eyeing Martha in utter disbelief that she wanted to go somewhere hot _so_ soon despite how close they had come to burning not so long ago. He couldn't believe. "You'd never think we were stuck on a cargo ship falling into a sun, would you?" he snorted incredulously, shaking his head profusely as he sipped his own tea.

"Forget that, what else happened?" Martha waved him off, leaning forwards to prompt Amara again.

"Martha, you making something out of nothing."

Martha tilted her head, pouting in disappointment to try and twist her arm. "I've told you about _my_ boyfriends."

"He wasn't a _boyfriend_."

Martha's brow rose in question, "What was he then?"

Amara smiled to herself, her eyes falling upon the Doctor as he stared at her, both of them seemingly engrossed in what she was saying. She knew it was because she rarely spoke of her life before meeting them, choosing to keep them in the dark until the time was. "A marauder... sea wolf... he may have been a privateer, but that doesn't matter," she couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips.

"Was he the person you were on about when I asked about..."

"No," Amara shook her head, hopefully settling Martha's concern over the matter. "I'd be lying if I said I was _completely_ void of emotion towards him... I suppose I thought I would never leave Nassau, so I resigned myself to the fact, yeah, he was an attractive man," Martha laughed at her words, "Did I deserve fun? _Yes_. Did I find him attractive? _Yes_. Did I enjoy myself? _Hell yes_."

Even the Doctor laughed at that, though he found it odd why she left someone she felt so deeply about so easily, not even bothering to spare him a second thought as she left. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Martha smiled, reaching forward to squeeze her hand, "You really liked him, didn't you?"

* * *

 _His hand entwined with hers, Charles led her along the beach and she didn't bother to ask where they were going, knowing he probably wouldn't answer and instead she continued to eye the knife clutched between his fingers._

 _Eventually he came to a stop, the only sound to comfort them came from the roaring ocean as the wind danced around them, "I can't promise I'll always be here," he told her in a low murmur, offering her the blade, "I know you said you can handle yourself, but I want to show you all the same."_

 _At first she thought it was ridiculous, but she saw no point in protesting at the chance to learn something new, something that could prolong the life of her current incarnation. Despite her moral justification, Amara took the knife from him and gripped it firmly within her palm._

 _Charles lost himself in his explanation on the many ways to kill a man, intriguing her with his lecture, "You need to be quick, you know, agility is key," he murmured in her ear, his arms snaking around her so that his grip resting upon her wrists firmly, "Men will always be stronger than women, it's nature's way," he smiled as he dodged her kick that would have hit his shin, securing his grip so he could immobilise her entirely._

 _She could feel his warm breath in the crook of her neck, and forgot herself in the moment, leaning back into his grasp, his warmth bleeding into her._

 _She rested her head on his shoulder to meet his curious gaze, his grip loosening slightly as he watched her, "Charles, we don't have to do this," she spoke softly, holding his gaze firmly. She already felt safe enough, and she knew she was very capable of protecting her. He just didn't know it._

 _She knew he wouldn't hesitate to harm anyone who tried to hurt her, she also knew how much he cared for her despite not wanting to admit it. She could see it in what he did, what they were doing in that moment._

 _Charles kissed her suddenly, deeply, which left her head spinning when he pulled away, "I'm not done," he spoke, taking her free hand to rest it upon the centre of his chest, his sternum firm beneath her fingertips, "_ Never _aim here, there's too much bone..." he moved her hand lower, the warmth of his skin making her fingers tingle._

 _Amara nodded, though she was barely paying attention to what he was saying anymore. She was too caught up in watching him, seeing his concentration in what he was teaching her._

 _He kept going at it until he was satisfied, the sky bleeding with the first traces of dawn beginning to emerge. The ocean breeze was welcome in its whisper as they both shone with sweat, though she still shivered. "You'll be needing that," he told her, gesturing to the knife in her grasp, the weight familiar and homely in her hand, "Keep it on you all the time."_

 _Amara arched a brow, smirking slightly, "_ All the time? _"_

 _"Every hour of every day," Charles nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her to him, kissing the side of her temple as he secure her in a tight embrace._

 _..._

 _Charles never said anything as he came to stand behind her, the warmth of his chest against her back, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her close to his. His other hand crept up to her shoulder, fingers rubbing the skin beneath the fabric gently to force her to lean back into him._

 _It made her feel safe, like no one could ever harm again... no Daleks, no Rassilon, nobody. All because of the steady presence at her back._

 _Turning in his arms, Amara wasn't surprised to find the intense gaze of his pale blue eyes watching her. He took her hand and held it against his chest, his heart beating under her palm as their eyes met. She could feel his thumb trailing over her wrist as she kissed him, her hand crawling up to rest upon his shoulder as she pulled him closer, her other hand coming to stop on his jaw._

 _Her fingers fisted his shirt to pull him even closer, "Charles..." she could see the challenge in his eyes but he remained silent, his cool gaze studying her as a storm brewed within their depths._

 _Eventually, he raised his hand to brush his fingers over her jaw and still, he didn't say a word, his grip on her secure when he bent his head to kiss her again._

* * *

"I've still got the knife," Amara admitted with a furrowed brow, "Somewhere."

Martha couldn't believe it... she couldn't believe how Amara had managed to keep that all quiet, under the radar from her so easily. She'd been right though, when she'd said that Amara was very much a female Doctor, having travelled through time so simply and having met so many great people, too. She was so jealous. "I'd kill for a love affair like that, lustrous and historic..." she marvelled, sighing in wonder.

She had always resigned herself to the boring role of becoming a doctor.

 _Ironic,_ Amara was almost tempted to cut out her hearts and offering them to Martha in the hope that she would stop fawning over the past, "Fleeting, Martha Jones," she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, brewing over of conversation, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut and just watched the film like a sane human would have done.

"You probably snogged his face off," Martha grinned, clapping her hands in delight as though she was a child at nursery or something; she was elated that she was getting to know something else about Amara seeing as she barely told them both anything about her life before travelling with them. "Same with you, mister, to what's her face..." she waved her hand in the Doctor's direction, though she was far more interested in the pirate scandal.

"I think you'll find that Reinette snogged _me_ ," the Doctor countered, heat creeping up his neck at the distant memory. He'd soon banished all thought of her for Rose, Rose was who he loved, and no mistress of the King of France could ever come between that... "It was a mistake anyway, I still thought she was a child and- "

"Wait, what?!" Martha's eyes widened as she turned to look at him, mouth agape in shock.

Realising what he'd said, the Doctor's eyes also widened, "No, no, no, _not_ like that!"

"Wow," Amara couldn't help but laugh as the Time Lord scrambled to set things right, rushing to explain to Martha what he'd _actually_ meant rather than _how_ it sounded.

"Wait a minute," Martha eyed him for a moment, "So, you first met her as a little girl, and then when you next saw her she was all grown up?" the Doctor nodded, visibly relaxing at her words, "I don't care about time windows or anything like that, it's still weird."

"At least it wasn't a pirate!" he accused, waving his arms at Amara.

"At least it wasn't the mistress to the King of France."

"Reinette- " the Doctor stopped himself with a frown, before resigning himself to the fact he had come between that fixed point in history, "Good point."

"First name basis... Charles and Reinette," she mused with a distant look Amara didn't like the look of her, a wide smile forming on her lips as she jumped to face the Doctor, startling him where he sat on the floor, "You need to take me somewhere so I can carry on the torch, follow the legacy..." the poor Time Lord gulped and nodded before she turned back to Amara to continue her interrogation, "I feel a bit jealous, if I'm honest. But, come on, I bet he was so sexy... or is that a stereotype for all pirates? Y'know like Will Turner from ' _Pirates of the Caribbean'_ and all that..." she trailed off in thought, finding that she was only familiar with the depiction of them in films and history, but not in person. "Or are they different?"

"He was passionate about what he believed in," Amara replied, not really knowing why she was telling either of them about him at all, "Left-handed, too," she wriggled her own hand before shaking her head softly, "That's all I'm saying, so stop it... enough reminiscing over the past."

Martha, however, didn't stop and Amara doubted she knew how to stop herself, "Did you love him?"

Amara was not going to answer that question, she'd be damned if she gave Martha Jones the satisfaction. She wondered if her friend was under some sort of compulsion to fire questions at her until she got an answer she found appropriate enough to stifle her interest, "It was fleeting," and that was as elaborate as she was going to get.

"Oh, my God!" Martha's face lit up in sudden realisation as she rounded on the Doctor once more, forcing the Time Lord to reciprocate her grin despite not knowing what was about to happen, "Can we go to the West Indies during the seventeen hundreds?" the question sped out of her mouth like the cars on the grid of a Formula One race, speeding up the grid to take pole position.

The Doctor frowned a moment before nodding slowly, also knowing that she wanted to have dinner with her mother, but being certain that they could make the trip before going as well, "I don't see- "

"No!"

The Doctor's head snapped in Amara's direction at her sudden outburst, having never expected her tone to rise so quickly to produce an anxious tone as the one he'd just heard. He also didn't like the expression of hurt flooding across her face in that moment either. He wouldn't take Martha there just to save Amara the pain, he wouldn't let bad memories resurface just because Martha was jealous.

He didn't like how pained she looked at the mere conversation Martha kept pushing, how uncomfortable she'd grown in a few simple moments and it annoyed him that Martha hadn't realised that Amara _didn't_ want to talk about it because it didn't end well.

Martha's shoulders sagged instantly at Amara's tone. "Why not?" she pleaded, wanting to know what was _so_ bad that she didn't want to share it with her, "I mean, it's pirates, and it sounds pretty fun if I'm honest," it sounded way better than falling into the sun of a cargo ship to say the least.

Amara winced.

Even if they _did_ go, Charles wouldn't recognise her... wouldn't remember her.

Amara looked at the both of them, opening her mouth and closing it again as she struggled to find the right words. Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, knowing that Martha would never understand what it was like to have seen such a horrible thing... She closed her eyes, "I won't watch him die again," she managed through a low mutter, her eyes trailing to the ground as she swallowed thickly.

Martha thought for a moment before turning her narrowed gaze on Amara in question, "Hold on a minute, I thought you said you left?"

Amara lowered her head immediately, "It would have been the right thing to do if I had but I couldn't..."

 _Her face was stone as she watched them loop the noose around his neck, she didn't move when he spoke and took the steps to his own death, like he always meant to. He was always meant to die, even before she'd ever met him - that was history in itself._

She could hear his voice in her head, the memories invading her mind over and over. She could smell the rum and cigar smoke that was him. His touch on her skin, the first kiss... the look he gave her... the look he gave her when he died. It still unnerved her.

"I owed him that much," Amara sighed, running a hand over her face.

 _She could barely breathe, her chest ached and her head thumped in its own pain of suffering. She always thought a part of herself died that day, the part that would never get what it wanted, and she had abandoned it._

Even now, she could still feel it withering inside of her chest. In a way, his death made her strong, stopped her from falling into pieces that Rassilon may have succeeded in doing. He'd always be there, in her memories no matter what face she wore, and that was three faces ago. Tragedy had always been on the cards. Unavoidable.

She could still remember the lavender hue of the sky, the crashing of the waves against the shore, the heat of the sun on the back of her head.

She wanted to scream but Martha and the Doctor were still watching her. Clearing her throat, she sat up properly and unfolded her legs, "I've been so many places, and yet no one has stuck with me, in memory, like that. As clear as day, and it still unnerves me," she admitted, recalling how once she would have loved to have remained there if the ending has been a happy one."

"Some people stay with us forever," the Doctor offered with a small smile.

"Agreed," Amara gave a nod of her before sighing in contentment. She wasn't hung up on Charles Vane, she just missed the life that could have been... it was wrong to believe she could have ever led a life like that; to have made something of her time in Nassau. "So, you... you've been bugging me since Manhattan because something's been bugging you." If that wasn't a tongue twister, she didn't know what was.

The Doctor looked surprised, "Nothing's bugging me," he replied, watching as she arched a brow at him in disappointment. Sighing in defeat, he straightened himself and rolled his eyes, "It was only something Sec said to me, nothing more."

"Care to share?" Martha asked, frowning.

"He said that they'd been sent to Manhattan by another of my species, a Time Lady... he _admired_ her."

Amara stared at him for a few moments, knowing that Sec couldn't have outed her to the Time Lord but she wasn't surprised that he'd been told. "So, Boe was right then? About what he told you in New New York?" she did wonder whether he'd figured it out or not, but it seemed he was still very much in the dark, thankfully and cruelly.

"If he was, why haven't I crossed paths with her?" he asked, confused and sounding hurt, betrayed... a dark look crossed in face immediately, "She _must_ have known I survived... she _must_ know I exist. Why _wouldn't_ she want to seek me out?" he couldn't understand why she wouldn't want to find him if they were the last of the Children of Gallifrey. He couldn't even begin to comprehend why she wouldn't want to.

"What do you want us to say?"

The Doctor bristled, running both of his hands through his hair, "There's _nothing_ you can say, you wouldn't understand..."

Martha gritted her teeth at his comment, "Then help us to."

The Doctor looked up at them earnestly, tears shining in his eyes as he sat silently pleading, broken and near despair, "Why wouldn't she want to find me? Am I _that_ bad?" he bit out in a quiet voice, allowing the emotion he'd been hiding to flow forwards in a sudden surge of dismay. He couldn't understand it.

"No," Amara set her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it in comfort despite the guilt feeling plaguing her insides at the knowledge he was talking about her. "You're wonderful, Space Cowboy."

"Then why has she kept herself in the dark?" he asked, perplexed and tired of being alone, tired of the loneliness he'd been forced to endure.

"Perhaps she's afraid..." Martha suggested, her eyes trailing to Amara for a moment as she watched her comfort the Doctor, a strange thought crossing her mind to provide her with something she hadn't even considered a possibility. "If she sent them there... what if they weren't the only thing after her?"

Amara sighed, "She probably has her reasons."

"I could help her, God, I could protect her!"

Smiling softly, Amara carding her finger through his head of spikes and sighed, "You might meet her, you _never_ know."

And that confirmed it, Martha knew it... Amara was always so cautious and careful, barely revealing anything about herself to anyone, not saying too much that would give her ideas... except that she had - she'd told her that she wasn't human, and that was all she really needed to know for sure.

Amara wasn't human... Amara had secrets, and she knew so much about time and space. Amara had also met aliens and could travel singularly through time. It was obvious when she considered all the factors; Amara was that Time Lady but the Doctor was _too_ blind to see.

* * *

"Just, wait..." Martha breathed in annoyance, "What are they?!" she exclaimed in her growing exasperation as she dove through a chest aimlessly, throwing Amara a helpless glance as the other woman frowned, stretching as she searched.

"I told you," the Doctor called with an eye roll, "They're... _things_."

Amara scoffed, "Vague as vague can get..." she grumbled as she continued to root through a large collective of bottles of poisons and antidotes, silently worried at the mass of his collection, "Do you _even_ know? To me, if seems as though we've no idea what we're dealing with and- "

"Oh, shut it know-it-all," the Doctor sighed, bristling as he himself rooting through a chest, chucking bottles left, right and centre as the two women ducked behind him before he disappeared from sight. "Things with a capital 'T'! Very important and very dangerous," he reappeared again, from behind a very large painting of what Amara was certain was Nero watching Rome burn, carrying two bows in his hand. "Got 'em! Now, have either of you found that poison yet?"

"Well," Martha sighed with a wince, trying not to laugh as Amara glanced at a bottle with a squinted gaze. "Have you ever tried reading your own handing writing before? It's awful," she frowned as she attempted to read a jar cramped full of an oily, apple substance, "As if either of us could _ever_ read it."

Marching over, the Doctor snatched the jaw from her and inspected it, "See... ' _Reptile Toxin'_... perfect English dialect," he beamed in his own amusement as Amara slapped his hand in her own annoyance.

Martha glowered at him in feigned irritation, "Can I hit him?" she looked over at Amara as the Doctor's eyes widened.

Amara scrunched her face in thought as she regarded the Doctor, "You might damage his bravado..."

Grinning to himself, the Doctor pocketed the jaw before passing both of the women a bow each of them, "Allons-y!"

"I feel like Robin Hood," Amara spoke in amusement, looping the bow over her shoulder.

* * *

He had meant to get Martha back to London so she could meet her mum for dinner, he really had every intention but as soon as he set the coordinates that morning, an alarm had changed their plans entirely, angry and screaming at him, in which the TARDIS had picked up a ship within the Vortex.

So, it was blatantly ironic for the ship to crash-land on Earth of all places, and in London. The Doctor, being the Doctor had managed to the trace the energy patterns of the ship which led them to the early twenty-first century, several weeks late for Martha's dinner with her mother and a couple after the ship had landed.

So, that meant the ship's occupants had had full roam of London during that time, and also involved dangerous eggs of all things, which was bad. Seriously bad, according to the Doctor which was why it meant catching a London cab with two massive bows and a quiver full of poisoned arrows was necessary. London would become a parasite frenzy: feed off of humans, lay eggs and the lifecycle would continue over and over again. Never-ending.

The eggs were almost ready to hatch.

What seemed to make matters worse was the Judoon interfering at any given moment, and that fact that he was still harbouring a wanting criminal AKA Amara didn't make matters any easier either. He didn't want them accusing the Earth of harbouring fugitives, that was the last thing he wanted.

Then there was U.N.I.T butting their noses in as well, having tried to dispose of the eggs themselves and consequently failed, seeming to only want to blow things up they couldn't destroy with bullets. Being the Doctor, he'd easily convinced them to lay off the explosive attack and to let himself, Martha and 'Mara go about disposing of the eggs.

Poison-tipped arrows seemed the most logic method of action; shoot them while hatching, easy and simple. He just hoped he could fire quickly enough to prevent the migration.

Glancing down the street, he frowned as he tried to get his bearings, while Martha was distracted. "I wonder who won the election," Martha asked with a frown, trying to find a poster advertising the new Prime Minister somewhere but with no success.

Amara had a suspicion that it was most likely Harold Saxon, the man whom Toril had warned her about, though she knew nothing about him so, saw no reason to worry about him because of that. "No idea."

"We don't have time for that," the Doctor sighed, shaking his head knowing he couldn't afford to get distracted.

Martha nodded and started down the street. 'That way,' she led them along, moving to cross the road.

Amara couldn't help but smile as she clutched the bow with her hands, "' _Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon,'_ " she hummed as Martha sent her a grin, "' _You come and go, you come and go... loving would be easy if your colours were like my dreams, read, gold, and green, red, gold, and green.'_ "

"Really appropriate," the Doctor shook his head, sending a soft smile, "Do you have a song for every occasion?"

"You bet, Casanova," Amara laughed, twirling with the bow in amusement, " _This is the return of the space cowboy, interplanetary, good vibe zone... says, at the speed of cheeba, you and I go deeper, maybe I'm gonna have to get high just to get by... you know I got that, I got that cheeba, cheeba kinda space cowboy vibe._ '"

"Oh, my God..." Martha shook her head at Amara as she caught up with her, knowing the Doctor probably would have a clue who she was singing. "Jamiroquai?"

"See, Martha," the Doctor grinned, "'Mara picked a space song just for me..."

"Doctor!" a voice called out from behind them, shrill and excited, "Doctor! _Doctor!_ "

The Doctor turned at the persistent shouting his so-called name to see a young blonde-haired woman, whom he didn't recognise at all, running towards him as if her life depended on it. "Hello," he smiled brightly, "Sorry, in a bit of a rush... there's a sort of thing happening, and, uh, fairly important that we stop it."

"My God, it's you. It really _is_ you," the woman stared at him in awe, ignoring the urgency in his voice, too distracted by actually meeting him, "Oh, you don't remember me, do you?"

"Oi, Space Cowboy," Amara shouted over to him, waving her bow with a brilliant smile, "Now's not the best time to pull!"

"It's you!" the woman gaped at her, eyes wide, "You're greaser girl, um... 'Mara!"

At her name, Amara paused in her movements to turn and face the woman who had called her ' _greaser_ '. "Do I know you?" she was fairly certain she'd never seen the woman at all before in her entire time on Earth, but the woman seemed to know her.

Sighing, Martha grabbed Amara arm as she turned back to face the Doctor, "Doctor, we haven't got time for this. Migration's started," she pulled Amara along with her, though she fought with the woman as she kept glancing at the blonde-haired woman talking with the Doctor.

"Look," the Doctor turned back to the blonde woman again with a sigh, "Sorry, I've got a bit of a complex life... things don't _always_ happen to me in quite the right order. Gets a bit confusing at times, especially at weddings. I'm rubbish at weddings, especially my own."

"Oh, my God, of _course_ ," the woman exclaimed in thought, beaming as though she understood what he was going on about, "You're a _time traveller_... it hasn't happened to you yet. None of it. It's _still_ in your future."

"What hasn't happened?" the Doctor asked, suddenly intrigued by the ambiguity.

"Casanova, come on!" Amara called to him, trying to yank her arm free from Martha. "Martha's getting mardy!"

"Doctor, please," bellowed Martha, "Twenty minutes to red hatching."

"It was me," the blonde woman breathed with a shake of her head as though she was having an epiphany, "Oh, for God's sake, it was me all along. You got it all from _me!_ "

The Doctor eyed her, stepping closer. "Got _what_?"

"Okay," she moved towards him, adopting a sudden serious tone, "Listen... one day you're going to get stuck in nineteen sixty-nine, make sure you've got this with you," she handed him a purple folder as his eyes narrowed, "You're going to _need_ it."

"Doctor!" Martha yelled again, bringing back to the current issue.

"She's pulling my arm off!"

"Yeah, listen, listen, got to dash... things happening," he told the woman with a frown, hearing Amara bickering in the distance which made him smile, "Well, four things... _well_ , four things and a lizard."

"Okay," said the blonde woman with a soft smile, "No worries, on you go... see you around, some day."

The Doctor nodded and made to leave until he halted, turned and tilted his head at her curiously, "Sorry, what was your name?" he wondered.

"Sally Sparrow."

The Doctor beamed at her, "Good to meet you, Sally Sparrow."

A lean man with sandy hair and the beginnings of a beard stepped up behind Sally, a startled expression on his face. The Doctor watched as she clasped the man's hand in her own, "Goodbye, Doctor," she told him before turning to lead the man into the shop behind them.

Smiling at the retreating couple, he turned to catch up with the two women, hoping he could get Martha to dinner on time but in reality, he doubted he would manage it. He also doubted she would mind.

Having started to run after his two companions, he grumbled to himself. "Hold on!" he threw his quiver to the floor immediately as he moved to retie his shoelace, trying to catch his breath for a moment.

"Oh, you drama queen!" Amara was shouting in annoyance, "You wanted us to hurry along, and you're lagging!"

"Well, yes, I did say to hurry," the Doctor retorted, jogging to catch up with them with a furrowed brow, "Just not necessarily sprinting..."

Amara eyed him, "You said running was always the best part and here you are, struggling to catch your breath, are you sure you're an alien?" she teased as he rolled his eyes at her in good-nature.

"Yeah, well..." he looked sheepish for a moment, "I really fancy a banana right now... yellow, sweet- "

"All wild, large and succulent... long, rampant and bristling..."Amara trailed off when Martha choked on air as the Doctor stared at her in shock before striding off in front of them, "Well, I wasn't sure we were still talking about the fruit or not..."

"Of course we were!" he shouted, turning around to face her in an instant.

Amara laughed, gesturing to the colour of his cheeks at the response to her playful nature. "Oh, look... the little baby is blushing, perfectly flushed from embarrassment," she closed her eyes and gave a great sigh, "I'm apologise for tainting every banana... globally."

"Doctor, come on!" Martha hollered as she continued to run through the streets.

"We're coming!" the Doctor gabbed Amara's hand to run off towards Martha, hooking the folder that Sally Sparrow had given him, "We're coming, hold your horses!"

However, Martha had paused up ahead which made the Doctor gather more speed, chasing after her in case the eggs had hatched, "Oh, my God," Martha breathed out as her eyes landed upon four very large, crimson eggs decorated intricately with amber patterns, shaking and stirring from where they sat.

"Uh, 'Mara..." the Doctor glanced at her in anticipation, "Fancy becoming... what's the comic book hero... uh, red and blue... Spidey!"

Amara arched a brow, "Spidey?"

"He means Spider-Man," Martha corrected with an eye roll, "You want her to climb a tree?"

The Doctor nodded, "That tree, over there..." he gestured to a large oak sat just off to the side of the field, "Go and climb it, _Spidey_."

"But- "

"Just go!"

Eyeing him for a moment, she ran towards the tree as the eggs continued to shake, cracks appearing on the shells while the ground began to shake. Trying her best to ignore it as she ascended the tree to hear the Doctor shouting at Martha from below, the shaking growing in intensity.

"The arrows!"

"What?" Martha frowned.

"THE ARROWS!"

Trying to keep her balance in tree, she saw Martha toss the quiver over to him as he dove forward, collecting them as they jolted about in the sheath before he tripped and fell. Martha, _poor Martha_ , ran to his side in an instant. "You stupid idiot..." she muttered under her breath in outrage.

Her head shot up when she heard an egg shell break, prompting Amara to abort the tree idea entirely to find herself running up behind the hopeless Time Lord and a panicking Martha, "Right, people don't call me Legolas for nothing..." she sighed as she pulled the bow over her head, holding her hand out towards the other woman.

"What?" Martha frowned.

"Just give me the arrows!"

Clambering to his feet, the Doctor tried to regain his balance while Amara notched the first arrow in the bow, starting forwards before taking aim and shooting... it cut through the air to clatter against the top of the egg, deflection off of it.

"Bugger."

"Pull, align... and breathe," Martha explained, helping the Doctor up. "Release.

"Yes, thank you, Martha," Amara rolled her eyes before she notched another arrow, releasing it quickly

Thankfully, the arrow embedded itself within the egg as the creature within it as the lizard emerged, engulfed in a flaming rage, reeling back as it glowered a fiery amber.

"Is it supposed to do... _that_?" she glanced back at the Doctor who was still struggling to get his bearing.

"No, you've done it right..." the Doctor gasped for his breath, nodding to the reptile hissing at them. "Just wait for it..."

Glancing back at the lizard as it spat a wave of flames, singing the grass surrounding it, engulfing the unhatched eggs around it. As soon as the flames died down, the eggs shimmered a marvellous emerald.

"And now, we step back..." he grabbed Amara's arm as he pulled her away immediately as they all fell to the ground in a heap. Apparently, just in time as the eggs exploded into tightly, glittering pieces as they all sat gaping at the mess left behind by the toxin.

Amara gulped at the sight, realisaing that she'd murdered those reptiles without a second thought, had willingly participated in disposing of them because the Doctor had asked her. Perhaps it was her forgiving nature that made her feel so guilty for have done what he wished... she wasn't too sure, but she felt awful for doing it.

Beside her, the Doctor broke out into a massive grin at the achievement, "No end of the world!" he jeered as Martha laughed, embracing him tightly at their evident relief.

"We did it!"

"' _Mara_ did it," the Doctor corrected, glancing over at the woman in question to see a deep frown pulling across her face which made his grin die. "'Mara, what's up?" he nudged her arm to see a displeased grimace appearing which made his concern deepen.

Amara cleared her throat, knowing that she would only dim their brightened mood. "We're no better than McDonnell, are we?" she turned to look at him fully, tilting her head before running a hand across her face lightly. "Look at what I just did... and why I did it..."

"Well," the Doctor frowned, finding it difficult understand why she was so remorseful about doing what was right but he _definitely_ didn't like that she'd compared them to McDonnell of _all_ people. "It was either that or the Earth."

"We reprimanded her poor decisions..." Amara looked away, clenching her jaw in frustration as her anger began to boil away within her. "We could have taken them elsewhere to prevent any infliction upon Earth, but now, we disposed of them..."

Martha sighed, "Where's this all come from?" up until that point, Amara had been happy enough to assist in what had to be done but since leaving that cargo ship, she'd been acting oddly.

"Being possessed by that sun..." she trailed off in uneasiness, trying not to shudder at the recollection of the memory. It wasn't something she ever wanted to relive again. "It warranted me to think, to consider things that I had dismissed prior to feel its pain. It was _screaming_ in pain, and _helpless_... they were hatchlings, dead and frozen in time, a mere memory."

The Doctor winced, moving to wrap an arm around her shoulder at her words before considering his reply, "Y'know, I thought that about Gallifrey... that the guilt of what I'd done, the pain was... I didn't want to live while knowing what I'd done..." he didn't really know why he'd said it, it just felt right for him to reply with that, and he hoped it would ease the tension he could feel within her shoulders.

Clearing her throat, Martha hoped to disuse the silence, "You weren't much use were you, jelly?"

"Oi!" he playfully pushed her as they turned to begin the long stroll back to the TARDIS, jiggling his legs in his own amusement. "I told you, shoelaces."

"That's why you tie them in a double-knot."

The Doctor shrugged, "Haven't got the time for that, have I?"

Martha rolled her eyes, "Give me a break!" she looked to Amara and smiled, finding that the woman was full on surprises. "You were right, though... a Legolas in the making, or a Robin Hood."

The Doctor squeezed Amara's shoulders, smiling brightly, "That makes us her merry men then, doesn't it?" he gave another laugh, tugging on her arm as he continued to lead her along gently. "Scratch that, can I be Maid Marian?" he batted his lashes and succeeded in drawing a smile from her.

"I don't know," Martha sighed softly before beaming brightly with a grin, "You could pass for Lady Kluck, I mean, you do run about like a headless chicken so it would make sense..."

Feigning shock, the Doctor scoffed at her, "How _very_ dare you!"

"Nonsense," Amara spoke up, her voice slightly broken as she coughed to clear it, "He's definitely Maid Marian... have you ever heard someone preach his looks like this one before? He has _pretty_ hair... for a porcupine, that is," she mused it as he moaned, slapping her hand away.

" _Always_ the hair."

"' _Robin Hood and Little John walkin' through the forest laughin' back and forth at what the other'ne has to say, reminiscin', This-'n'-thattin' havin' such a good time..._ _oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day,_ '" Amara mused in a soft, light tone as she allowed herself to be pulled along by the Doctor, trying to rid herself of the uneasy that had come with killing those lizards.

Martha laughed beside them as they continued their stroll, walking leisurely which wasn't something that often after - without the desperate need to not run from whatever was chasing them.

"So," she began quietly, eyeing the purple folder clutched under his arm with a narrowed gaze and she guessed it had probably been bugging him for the past hour. "Why would we get stuck in nineteen sixty-nine?"

"Please don't let it involve horrid attire," Amara breathed in annoyance, "I don't want to wear the dresses... don't need the ventilation, thank you."

The Doctor eyed her peculiarly for a moment before acknowledging the folder in thought, wondering about its contents. "I don't know," he finally said with a small frown, "But I have a feeling we'll eventually find out... probably soon, I should imagine."

"Oh, undoubtedly."

* * *

 **A/N: So, yeah... this one turned out a bit weirdly, if you ask me. Not what I originally had planned and it might be awful and cringy but hopefully you all like it nonetheless.**

 **There might not be an update for a while as I'm due to have surgery this upcoming Friday - but fear not, I will endeavour to update as soon as possible.**

 **So... Koorharn, Charles Vane, Madame de Pompadour and Sally Sparrow... quite a mix, indeed.**

 **Hopefully I've humanised Amara somewhat, too.**

 **REVIEWERS:**

 **Guest #1 - _Hi, I hope you enjoy this update!_**

 **Guest #2 - _Hello! Thank you for the review, and I'm glad you like the story. Hope you like the update!_**

 **Guest #3 - _Hi! I definitely enjoyed writing the chapters with Simm's Master in them, and I hope they will be well-received as well. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the update._**

 **Guest #4 -** _**Hello, yes... the Doctor is a softie, I suppose. Though, there is definite angst coming up, that's for definite... and jealousy, too. Thank you for reviewing, and I hope you like this new update as much as the previous.**_

 **ShadowTeir - _Hi! 'Human Nature' and 'Family of Blood' were great to write! Hopefully you'll enjoy my twist on it, and how 'Mara helps Martha with 'John Smith', and well... something else happens. I'm sorry about the lack of anger from 'Mara, though there is some regret in this one... the more the story progression, the more internal conflict will emerge. I'm glad you like the gradual development of the relationship - I hope you enjoy this update. X_**

 **...**

 **Thank you for the support - I hope you continue to read and review.**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


	14. XIII

It was quite possibly the worst idea that the Doctor had _ever_ had, and there had been numerous ideas she regarded as strenuously ludicrous but this topped them all.

Farringham School for Boys.

Four words that had been rousing the same grimace upon her lips for the past fortnight. She hated the bloody place, and she damned the TARDIS for picking it as the desired setting for 'John Smith' to thrive whilst the Doctor was in hiding.

She _loathed_ it.

She felt paranoid and stressed, constantly on guard for an attack that never seemed to arrive. The days left her exhausted, the nights even more so in growing frustration spent waiting for the time pass.

Spending roughly nine hours a day doting over books and discussing their purpose and validity within military was not what she _ever_ pictured herself doing. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy making them more literate and aware within the English vernacular or anything, she just wished she wasn't posing as a teacher of all things.

It had been the Doctor's fault for having persuaded Martha to forego the dinner with her mother for another trip that apparently involved forests and hot springs – rubbish.

The plan had never come to pass, having stepped out of the TARDIS for a record-breaking two minutes before being shot at.

And because of that, they'd been forced into their current circumstance that Amara wasn't sure she'd ever forgive the Doctor for.

 _The console hissed and spat, sparking hazardously as Amara ran through the TARDIS door, pulling Martha to the ground as a blast of green shot over head, diving into a roll so she could duck behind the controls._

 _"This isn't the bloody Terminator," Amara exclaimed in annoyance, "What mess have you got us into now, Casanova?" she was furious with him and his idiotic ways, "So much for being a smooth talker!"_

 _The Doctor ducked, throwing himself to the ground as it struck something behind him, spinning to kick the doors shut, helping both of them to their feet and making sure they were both all right and uninjured._

 _Turning to Martha, he grabbed her shoulders sternly, "Did they see you?" he demanded, his tone unusually urgent and panicked._

 _Martha shook her head, confused, "I don't know!"_

 _"Did they see you?!"_

 _"I don't know," she gave a great sigh, "I was too busy running!"_

 _"Martha," Amara spoke, her voice much more calm than the Doctor's as she struggled to regain her breath from the mad dash they'd just participated in. "Just think back carefully, and answer the question."_

 _"Martha," the Doctor practically shook her shoulders like a hurricane, demanding an answer from her. "It's important; did they see your face?"_

 _"No," she paused in thought, thinking it over in her head, "They couldn't have!"_

 _Letting go of her in an instant, he raced around the console, flipping and switches as he went, "Off we go!" he exclaimed as Amara twisted a few of the controls, eyeing the rotor after imputing some coordinates until a warning beep rang out through the TARDIS, "Ah!" he grabbed the console screen in frustration._

 _"They're following us..." Amara bit out, glancing at the Doctor, "They've locked on to us."_

 _"How can they do that, you've got a time machine?" Martha cried as he sprinted around the console, leaving Amara to eye the screen in her own worry._

 _"Stolen technology," the Doctor sighed in exasperation, "They've got a Time Agent's Vortex Manipulator, too. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the Universe..." he paused momentarily in thought, realising something, "They're never going to stop..." he ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the console for a couple of seconds until something else came to him. "Unless... I'll have to do it..." he muttered to himself._

 _"Oh, come on..." Amara knew exactly what he was considering, she'd seen that very same look within her own eyes, her eyes widening, "You_ _can't_ _do that!"_

 _"What choice is there, 'Mara?" the Doctor asked, his eyes pleading with her. When she said nothing more, he turned to Martha in an instant, "Martha, you trust me don't you?"_

 _"Of course I do," Martha replied quickly, no question in her voice._

 _"Cos it all depends on the pair of you," he dove beneath the console, searching for something until he pulled it, Amara turning her attention back to the controls, pressing some until a helmet was lowered from the ceiling._

 _Martha watched in perplexity, not understanding what was going on, "What does? What are we supposed to do?"_

 _He reappeared again, popping up in front of Martha holding a pocket watch with an ornate Gallifreyan design drawn over it, "Take this watch, because my life depends on it... listen to 'Mara, she'll know what to do. The watch, Martha... the watch is... me."_

 _Amara winced, "Yeah, this is such a great idea," she hissed, smacking the console in panic, "Leave us to deal with a dithering idiot instead of your normal self, thanks!"_

 _"Those creatures are hunters," the Doctor sighed, "They can sniff out absolutely anyone, and me being a Time Lord... well, it's very appealing to them, so they can track us down absolutely anywhere through time and space."_

 _"Is there any good news?" Martha asked._

 _The Doctor managed at smile, "They can smell me, all right, but they have seen me... they have no idea what I look like," he explained in a frenzy, "And their life span's running out, so all we have to die is hide and wait for them to die. Simple."_

 _Martha frowned, starting really panic, "But you said they can track us down."_

 _"But if they don't know what we look like," Amara called over the chaos, "Then waiting is our best chance."_

 _"That's why I've got to do it, I have to stop being a Time Lord..." turning, the Doctor placed the fob watch in the slot of the headset, "I'm going to become human, never thought I'd use this... all the times I've wondered."_

 _"This is mad," Amara accused with a wide gaze, "You're mad!"_

 _"What does it do?" asked Martha, eyeing it suspiciously._

 _"Chameleon Arch... it rewrites my biology, literally changes every single cell in my body," the Doctor informed her curtly as Amara looked at him earnestly, "I've set it to human- "_

 _"For the record," Amara cut in, loudly enough to interrupt him, "I think this is a horrendously bad idea... one of epically bad proportions."_

 _"It's the only way, 'Mara! I don't know what else I can do... I need to hide from them and the vortex isn't safe; they can follow my genetic signature, sniff me and finito! Boom! You're done, I'm done – we're all done!"_

 _"What about 'Mara?" Martha pressed, pointing to the woman at the console whose eyes were glued to the monitor screen._

 _Amara frowned, "What about me?"_

 _"Ol' Electro over there!"_

 _"Oi!"_

 _Rolling his eyes at Martha's worry, his shook his head, "She'll still smell human to them, not unless they get really close, I should imagine... but hide, and you'll absolutely fine!"_

 _Amara sighed, trying to ignore the fact she was being talked about in the third person despite being stood right there, "It's not me we should be worrying about here."_

 _"Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything; invent a life story for me, find me an appropriate setting and integrate me... unfortunately, can't do the same for the two of you, so you'll just have to improvise."_

 _"Bloody charming," Amara mumbled under her breath. "And what are we supposed to do while you swan around as a human with no blasted memory of anything?"_

 _"I should have just enough residual awareness to let you in..." he told Martha before his eyes wandered over to Amara and he frowned in thought, "Don't know about you though, 'Mar. Might an new ball game, so just take it in your stride."_

 _"Brilliant, cheers."_

 _"But, hold on," Martha interrupted him as he moved to pull the headset on, making him pause, "If you're going to rewrite every single cell in your body, isn't it going to hurt?" she demanded, feeling sorely lost and confused._

 _"Oh, yeah. It hurts."_

 _"If we land in North Korea, we won't have to worry about the Family," Amara glowered furiously as he eyed her, frowning, "Because I'll bloody kill you myself."_

 _He rolled his eyes at her, "You'll see, three months will fly by and then we'll be back to normal, fine and dandy, having right good laugh," he reached up to flick a few switches, "Now, this is going to get a bit loud."_

She winced at the memory of the Doctor screaming as the Chameleon Arch fulfilled its desired purpose, something she was thankful she never resorted to using despite having considered it in the past.

When the TARDIS had eventually landed, Amara was almost tempted to use the Chameleon Arch herself when she found out they were in nineteen-thirteen.

She left Martha with the Doctor to pack the appropriate clothes for the period, changing to avoid looking _too_ suspicious as Martha half-dragged the Doctor into a nearby field, Amara carrying their bags.

They weren't allowed to let his human self know who he really was unless they were found by the Family, that had been something the Doctor had made absolutely clear. The problem they had faced was that they had no idea what the human Doctor would be like.

He _would_ recognise Martha, but he hadn't been too sure about Amara.

The next problem had been finding their own roles to play and how to carry them out – effectively, they'd been clueless, but Amara couldn't have been more grateful for having Martha Jones at her side. Saint Martha Jones.

 _Groaning, the Doctor rolled onto his front and clambered to his feet in an instant, "Easy," Martha fought him as she forced him back to the ground, not wanting him to go charging off like his true self was so inclined to do._

 _"Thank God!" Amara breathed as Martha kept him down, "How d'you fell? Are you all right?"_

 _The man on the ground frowned, putting a hand to the side of his head in thought, "I'm not... certain, what happened?" his frown deepened._

 _Martha sighed, "We had an accident," she explained, just like the Doctor had told her to, silently thanking Amara for her subtle prompting. "Do you remember?"_

 _The man nodded his head very slowly before his face screwed up in disdain, "My... head..."_

 _"You just rest," Martha told him quickly, "We need to take care of you."_

 _"No, no no..." the man began to moan like a child, shaking his head, "I can't rest, I have to get to the school on time... I can't be late!" he reached out blindly for the nearest support and fastened his hold woodenly, "You have to help me get to the school!"_

 _"You're not going anywhere like this," Amara commented, trying to release the fierce hold her hand on her wrist, "Calm down, we'll help get you to the school in time..."_

 _But the human Doctor wasn't at all soothed by her words and so began to babble and groan in frustration about how he had to arrive at the school on time, and that he couldn't be late. The dramatics wasn't something Amara expected from him but she decided that his evident disorientation was down to the power of the Chameleon Arch._

 _Glancing around them, she winced. Fields upon fields._

 _"Where am I?" he frowned, "What the blazes happened?"_

 _Martha stared, "You don't remember?"_

 _Feeling bewildered and confused, the Doctor shook his head, groaning in significant pain. "Right, I'm going to ask you a few questions," Martha explained, sneaking a glance at Amara as she glanced around the field, "Just as a precaution, just in case you have a concussion."_

 _The Doctor smiled instantly, "Ah, Martha... you fancy a change of career, after all? Medicine now? A matron, perhaps?" he chuckled before sobering up, nodding for her to ask away._

 _"Do you remember your name?"_

 _"Of course," he frowned at her, gaze narrowing, "John Smith."_

 _Martha nodded, "And where do you live?"_

 _"Come on, Martha, you know this, so stop being so silly- " he tried to get up, pulled she forced him down again and he sighed, "Fine. New position, teacher of history at Farringham School for Boys," he sat up and glancing around the field, "What on Earth are we doing in a field?"_

 _"You fell," Amara finally spoke, drawing John's attention to her for the first time, "Bit of a struggle, wasn't it Martha?"_

 _Martha smiled at Amara's help, how easy she made it look to pretend but then again, Martha knew she'd had years of practice. "Tell us about the school," he called John's attention back to her._

 _"It's an all boy's boarding school, in which there was a vacant teaching position I took," John explained with a wry smile, "Now, I'm fine... no more questions, honestly, I'm perfectly fine."_

 _Despite his assurance, Martha refused to let him up. "Who am I?" she gestured to herself, hoping to find out something useful to help in concealing him from the Family._

 _"Martha, this is ludicrous!" John sighed in slight vexation when she didn't budge and decided it was best to just answer the question, "Martha Jones, how long have I known you? Longer than I'd care to admit, you're my maid for heaven's sake, as if I would just forget you over a simple concussion – scratch that, a concussion wouldn't make me forget you," he explained thoroughly, rambling much like the Doctor did normally that it made Martha smile, though she was slightly resentful that she was his 'maid'. "I insisted on you coming with me to the school. Now, stop being silly, you hear?"_

 _"See," Amara breathed, squeezing Martha's shoulder in comfort as her friend smiled at him softly. "I told you he'd be absolutely fine, didn't I?"_

 _John turned to Amara for a moment, eyeing her curiously before allowing a frustrated sigh to pass his lips, "But your female friend, here, absolutely no idea," he winced as he rose to his feet, stumbling slightly as he held out his arms to balance himself, trying to regain his bearings before he addressed Amara again. "I apologise, I'm John Smith- just John..." he held out his hand to her, grinning until he saw the dirty covering his knees._

 _Amara laughed when he rushed to brush the dirt from the fabric hastily, "Hello, just John," she finally shook his hand firmly, "I'm Amara Lambert, it's funny actually..." she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear before smiling again – she'd got a look at the vacancy notice the TARDIS had constructed when she packed their bags, and well, she planned to use it to her advantage. "I was on my way to Farringham myself when I saw Martha struggling and opted to help her – they've got an English position going, and well, a good book is an endless source of influence on humans beings."_

 _John grinned at her, "I couldn't agree more," he staggered forwards to grab the bags immediately, offering Amara his arm, "Now, tell me... what is your favourite book?"_

 _"A cruel question, indeed," Amara rolled her eyes, pitying Martha as she grabbed her bag to follow them – did she just 'woo' John Smith or was he trying to 'woo' her?_

 _"A list of your top ten, then," he went to grin but tripped, tumbling over._

 _"Right, stay here with him while I go and find help," Amara ordered, not liking the pale tone to John's face. "You're question will have to wait for its answer..."_

 _She retreated immediately; her palms were sweating as she followed the path that had thankfully appeared, leading by the barn that the TARDIS had been concealed within until she emerged from the path to find herself upon a proper road._

 _They were in the country._

 _Frowning, she stared as a rustic car trotted towards her, trundling up the lane almost immediately._ Lucky coincidence _. She flagged down its overwhelmed driver and soon he pulled up beside her with a furrowed brow, concerned. Wasting no time, she asked if she and her companions could get a ride to the school._

 _Thankfully, the driver had been happy to oblige them at her request._

 _Coincidentally_ _, her saviour was driving down to Farringham with a fresh supply of text books for the next term and she couldn't believe her lucky._

 _After Martha and herself struggled to get the peaky John Smith into the back of the car, the driver hauled their suitcases into back as well, sighing, "How'd you three end up out here anyways? And all by ye'selves," he bit out, "Only fields out 'ere."_

 _"I stumbled upon them on my way up from the village," Amara explained smoothly, "They had an accident, and Mister Smith is from what I gather to be the new History teacher at the school."_

Amara sighed as she glanced around her room, sipping at her tea. Even after two months, she _still_ hadn't got used to the fact that she was playing pretend at being an English teacher while John Smith seemed to be fawning over her at every given chance he got.

Another thing she'd noticed was Nurse Redfern's lingering gaze and stolen glances at the Doctor – she thought Amara hadn't noticed, but naturally, she'd been keeping a close eye on him just to be safe. The woman was practically forlorn and it made Amara pity her even more.

But, to reiterate, the worst part was the doe-y eyed glances the John Smith kept giving Amara.

That, in itself, was the last thing she wanted.

She couldn't wait for the Doctor to return; she missed their playful teasing and witty exchange of banter... John Smith was _too_ proper, lovely and polite enough, but not the Doctor.

It had been all right for him, he could turn up on some random doorstep wearing his suit which could be seen as fairly normal. He had to go and get himself a job in a private school, of all places. She damned the Doctor for bloody corsets and bloomers, for one she would like to be able to breath in what she wore, and bloomers were bloody awful – both, in her opinion, ridiculous.

Farringham School. A private school for boys. Boys. Hundreds of hormonal, adolescent boys roaming all over the place and of course, the only appropriate attire would involve dresses – and God forbid showing any flesh in front of them, bloody jackals.

The TARDIS, she concluded, had been punishing her when she found only below the knees dresses and button-up boots. The dresses were nice enough, but it brought unwanted attention from the boys and unsurprisingly, John Smith while the Nurse Redfern took every opportunity to reprimand her clothing choices as though she was too idle to give a toss.

She supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the world, having to teach a colony of hormonal boys about literature... _could be worse_ , she thought with a frown and immediately thought of Martha, pity flooding through her. But Saint Martha Jones had taken it all in her stride and was so bloody positive that it was infectious despite being in nineteen thirteen, which wasn't necessarily the best time to be a black woman from London.

Opening the wardrobe door, she sighed at its contents: a dark vermillion dress, a navy one, a verdant one, a grey shirt dress... there were trumpet skirts, pleated and pegged along with several blouses that she deemed appropriate. _Not a bad wardrobe_ , she thought. It was the underwear that made her gape... complete diabolical, ridiculously so.

Overall, it was logical and she didn't bother remaining bitter.

She was particularly amused to find the TARDIS had provided her with jewellery, hair accessories and other small necessities; it was all rather accordingly suitable and she had little to no complaints about pretending for three months.

 _She'd also recently rediscovered her violent nature; there was an increasing urge to throttle the boys at the school, snooty upper-class boys who claimed they were "gentlemen"... even so early in the morning, s_ he could see how her day would play out in her mind before having left her rooms; lessons would drag, she would have to reprimand Baines and Hutchinson as always, possibly bump into Timothy Latimer. Encounter John...

So repetitive, so predictable, so boring.

* * *

Elsewhere, John jolted up from his bed with a fright, eyes wide as he glanced around. There was a slight crumple in his stripped pajamas from his latest nightmare. Blinking, he looked around the simple Victorian room for a few seconds, content with his surroundings before pushing himself up in his bed.

Rolling over, he set his feet against the ground to stand, rubbing his eyes as a knock on the door sounded, "Come in!" he called out with sigh, knowing the damn thing had opened before he had _even_ answered as usual.

Martha entered the room swiftly, adorned in her traditional maid's uniform, carrying a tray decorated and lavished with breakfast. When she saw him sitting on the bed, still dressed for bed, she turned back immediately, "Pardon me, Mister Smith, you're not dressed yet. I can come back later..."

"No, it's all right," John called out in amusement, rising to his feet as he pulled on the nearby dressing gown to cover himself, "It's all right, put it down," he watched her thoughtfully as she crossed the room, setting the tray down on the table in the centre of the room, "I was, um..." he paused, clearing his throat, "Sorry, sorry... it's just, sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams..."

"What about, sir?" Martha wondered, crossing the room again to pull the curtains that were suffocating the windows open, letting the sun's rays stream through the room.

"I dream I'm this..." he looked puzzled for a moment, stumped for words as he tried to find the right ones, " _Adventurer_. This... daredevil, a mad man. ' _The Doctor_ ', I'm called and last night, I dreamt that you were there, as my... companion."

"A teacher and a housemaid, sir?" Martha scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief, "That's impossible."

John smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head in thought as he tried to recall the dream that had been vividly etched into his mind, "The odd thing is that last night Miss Lambert was also there, and she was saying the daftest things..." he laughed, bemused, "Quite rude, too. It's rather amusing to ponder on when she is so cordial."

In his short time at Farringham, he'd become quite fond of Miss Lambert – _no_ , she insisted on him calling her Amara but that made him far too bashful. Often, he enjoyed her company and sometimes stopped in the corridor to hear her teaching the boys about Shakespeare or Charles Dickens.

"What was she saying?" Martha asked, glancing at him with sudden interest.

John beamed at her, "She called me Casanova, and claimed I had lost my wits," the woman in his dreams was rather enigmatic yet, he enjoyed her presence furiously.

"But that's ridiculous, sir," Martha remarked with a furrowed brow, "Miss Lambert is nothing of the sort."

He nodded, still evidently lost in his frantic thoughts, "Quite so, Martha... absolutely absurd," John sighed, smiling in thought of how he had been in the dream, so different and animated, "A man from another world, though..."

"Well, it can't be true because there's _no_ such thing," Martha told him firmly, filtering about as she seemed to always being doing.

Walking towards the fireplace, John glanced at the mantel as his eyes fell upon the fob-watch decorate intricately with the Gallifreyan symbols as it sat on the ledge, "This thing..." he picked it up, "The watch..." Martha peeked over at him, watching hopefully until he set it down once again as he sighed, "Ah, it's funny how dreams slip away," he turned around to Martha, smiling widely, "But I _do_ remember one thing; it all took place in the future... in the year of our Lord two thousand and seven."

"I can prove that wrong for you, sir... here's the morning paper," Martha returned his smile as she moved to hand him the paper, "See, it's Monday, November tenth, nineteen thirteen and you're completely human, sir. As human as they come."

"Mmm, that's me," John hummed with a smile as he looked down at the paper with keen interest, "Completely human."

* * *

Furiously scrubbing the floor, Martha frowned in thought.

She'd been there two months with 'John Smith' and Literature teacher Amara Lambert, and she'd been keeping a watchful eye on him as they tried to outlive the Family. But it was bloody difficult – he was just _so_ different from how he'd been before, it was horrible.

And she felt completely alone despite Amara being there to help; she felt like she had no one. The Doctor's consciousness was locked in a fob-watch, the TARDIS had hidden itself away, and Amara had to avoid making waves and that meant, avoiding conversation with 'the help'.

Despite that rule, Amara broke it anyway but she didn't see her as often as she would've liked because she was teaching. She just _really_ wanted some help – the Doctor had done an excellent job of blending in, and hid the watch well with – _what was it called?_ She frowned another moment before it came to her – _a Perception Filter_ , Amara had called it.

She just feared he would _never_ open it again.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Doctor – _no, John Smith_ – striding by, mumbling to himself as he wandered along, seemingly lost in thought. "Morning sir!" she called out to him in an instant, lifting her gaze from her work.

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, "Yes, hi," John replied before starting up the stairs, muttering something about transmats and cloister bells – whatever they were – as though he was desperately trying to recall where he'd heard such things before.

Her eyes widened when she was certain she heard Dalekanium.

"Head in the clouds, that one," her fellow maid, Jenny, said from Martha's side once he was out of earshot, "Don't know why you're so sweet on him."

Martha gave her a small smile before they returned to their vigorous scrubbing, "He's just kind to me, that's all. Not everyone's that considerate, what with me being..." she gestured to her face, indicting to the colour of her skin.

Jenny grinned at her, "A Londoner?"

"Exactly," Martha agreed with a laugh, "Good ol' London Town!"

Two senior boys had walked by when the laughter had attracted them, Baines and Hutchinson, to halt in their movements to stop a few feet from them. "Ah, now then, you two," the first boy, Baines, spoke as their laughter died once they looked up at him, "You're not paid to have fun, are you? Put a little backbone into it."

"Yes, sir," Jenny immediately ducked her head to go back to her scrubbing while Martha remained glowering up at Baines, "Sorry, sir."

Hutchinson stepped forward, "You there, what's your name again?" he looked to Martha with an arched brow.

"Martha, sir," she supplied firmly, "Martha Jones."

"Tell me then, Jones," Hutchinson sneered with a devilish smirk, "With hands like _those_... how can you tell when something's _clean_?"

The two boys went into a fit of hysterics as Martha stare, deadpanned, "That's very funny, sir."

"Hilarious..." a voice interjected from behind Martha; she immediately turned to see Amara eyeing them curiously, a gang of books under her arm, as she addressed the two boys – for a moment she thought she would launch the books at them and exercise her throwing arm. "Chucklesome. Hysterical. Riotous... so _many_ synonyms to emphasise its hilarity," Amara moved forward to stand before the boys with a levelled gaze, "Though I implore you to forgive my confusion, but in what way was that humourous?"

"Miss Lambert!" both boys straightened immediately, "It was a joke," Hutchinson told her with a paled expression, the smile having disappeared from his face entirely.

Amara nodded, "Utterly comical."

"Now, see here..." Baines started, trying to find the words to explain themselves, "We were- "

"You were what?" Amara pressed impatiently with a deep sigh, "I'm sick and tired of having to keep on at you for the same things, Baines. When will you learn?"

"We are learning, Ma'am," Hutchinson defended, puffing out his chest.

"That's funny," Amara commented with a dry laugh, "I don't recall teaching you racial witticism as part of my syllabus... do _you_?"

The boys blinked before replying in unison: "No, Ma'am."

While she wasn't a male staff member, the boys seemed to listen to her in reverence and earnestly, taking her words to heart which was something Martha was _still_ shocked to witness even after two months.

"I thought not," she stepped off the steps with another sigh to approach them both, "This is disappointing to say the least, I wonder what the Headmaster would say if I told him two of the school's most promising pupils were using racial slurs as a form of self amusement..."

Both boys stared at her as though they'd be slapped which, of course, was its desired affect.

Hutchinson snuck a glance at Baines in worry, "You won't tell him will you, Miss Lambert?"

Amara was silent for a couple of seconds, her gaze firm as she looked between Baines and Hutchinson with a levelled acknowledgement, "I seem to spend ludicrous amounts of time lecturing the pair of you on politeness when you should know it already seeing as you're part of the alumni at one of the most prestigious schools in the country," her voice didn't rise in volume, instead it maintain its soft, calm resolve as she continued to speak, "It's like a merry-go-round with the pair of you, honestly."

Martha found herself astonished at the tone of voice – she hadn't even raised her voice or adapted the sharp, accusing tone she'd heard Mister Phillips do, she was just talking to them as though they were equals through her cordial manner. It was shocking.

"You are both fortunate to attend this school, and to my confusion, we expect you to go on to lead this fine country in the future – to become leaders," Amara paused, for what Martha guessed, was dramatic effect. "Do you think Asquith became Prime Minster through racial remarks such as the one that just left your mouth?"

Both boys shook their heads: "No, Ma'am."

Amara smiled slightly, "Good answer... now that I have got your attention, I want you to both listen. _Properly_."

Neither boys spoke, merely sharing a glance with one another until Amara cleared her throat to begin speaking again, finding that she did rather enjoy reprimanding them for their insolence.

"It's unbecoming for fine men such as yourselves to give out snide comments such as that, and moreover, it makes for ill-suited leaders too immature to comprehend what reputable roles you may occupy in the future," she lazily glanced at one of the books under her arm, turning it over her hand before looking to the boys steadily, "You don't want to be inapt, do you? You don't want to be humiliated for your lack of maturity, do you?"

Baines shook his head sternly, "Absolutely not, Ma'am."

"Do we have an accord?"

Both boys nodded immediately, "Yes, Ma'am."

Giving a deep sigh, Amara smiled falsely at the pair of them, "So, now that we've sorted that... why did you say that to Martha, Thomas?" she was met with a silence and she grimaced slightly, feigning another smile, "Please avoid the following: she's a woman, she's of a different colour, and that she's a servant."

"It was a silly slip of the tongue, Ma'am," Baines told her.

"My point being is that she's a human being just like you and I, which means she should be respected nonetheless. She's doing her job to make a living, might I remind you, which she shouldn't have to be hounded for doing so..." Amara trailed off leisurely, pocketing the book under her arm again with a polite smile, "Have we formulated an answer?"

Hutchinson shook his head immediately, lowering it, "I don't know, Ma'am."

"Leadership and learning are indispensable to each other," she always thought J.F. Kennedy had his wits about him, - shame about what happened to him – but her point was, she hoped, that they would listen to her. She smiled again. "Once you learn the influence you _can_ provide, authority will no longer matter to you when you can inspire others to dream. So, you both need to unlock your potential to achieve that."

Baines smiled slightly, "The art of communication is the language of leadership," he quipped with a curt nod, earning a grin from Hutchinson.

Amara hummed in agreement, "I hope I won't catch you saying anything like that again, can I trust you both to uphold that promise to me?"

They both nodded again, "Yes, Ma'am."

"I have eyes everywhere," she watched as both of them smiled, moving to leave as Martha moved to thank her, "Off with you."

Turning around again, Hutchinson approached Martha under the watchful eye of Amara, "Miss Jones," he called with a faint smile, "I hope you accept my sincerest apology for having slandered you in that manner, it was unbefitting for me and disparaging towards you."

"Yes," Baines stepped up beside him, "I also hope you'll accept our apology for our rudeness, vulgar and... catty as it was."

Martha gave an uncertain bob of her head in acknowledgment, her eyes wide at the apologies. "O- of course..."

"That was..." Amara stared after the boys as they strolled away, rather amused by their eagerness to apologise without being told to do so, "Surprising. I didn't even have to tell them to apologise this time, so at least I know I'm getting through to them."

Martha smiled at Amara, "Thank you, Ma'am," she smiled even more when Amara eyed her, which then prompted her to amend her words to: "Thank you, Amara."

"Unluckily for them, they'll be standing for the entirety of my lesson today."

"You don't have to do that," Martha shook her head profusely, wishing that she would humiliate the boys for behaviour she fully expected to encounter – it ridiculous, and it made her feel _so_ embarrassed, and yet protected all the same.

Amara smiled at her cheekily, "They won't forget then, will they?"

"Oh, Ma'am, you're so..." Jenny laughed breathlessly, looking up from the floor, "Fresh, it's quite exciting."

"Or lippy, though, I suppose it depends how you look at it..." she sent Jenny a wide smile which the maid returned in an instant, "They can only be brass-necked for so long before they'll conform. If they don't get a reaction, they'll grow tired and move on. Men may have their canes, but we women have our words..."

Martha furrowed her brow at her, glancing around the deserted hallway eagerly, "Don't you have a lesson now?" she hoped the answer was no, she _hoped_.

Amara rocked on her heels in exasperation; she was always free Tuesday mornings, and yet, she seemed to always find herself awake. "Right now, I'm as free as a bird despite being forever weighed down by books..." she pulled out the books from under her arm and examined them for a brief moment, "Shakespeare and Dickens are the only men I need to keep me company in my life apparently."

Jenny beamed dreamily, "I love a good sonnet..."

"Well, if you're looking for a good sonnet..." Amara passed one of the books to Jenny without a second thought and found amusement in the shocked expression that crossed her face, "A hundred and sixteen."

Looking up from the book, Jenny shook her head as she remembered her place, knowing that it would be improper for her to accept such a thing, "Oh no, Ma'am... I mustn't," she feared if Rocastle found out, she'd be sacked from a job she desperately needed to make a living.

"I insist..." Amara pushed the book back towards her, "Unless, pardon my asking, you're not literate?" Jenny shook her head which caused Amara's smile to widen, "Enjoy to your heart's content."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Jenny breathed in shock, her eyes trailing over the book carefully, stunned.

"Amara, Jenny..." Amara corrected immediately, trying not to grimace at the title, awful as it was.

Jenny looked up at her, startled that she even knew her name but grinned again nonetheless, appreciative of her kindness, "Thank you, Amara."

Looking down, Amara frowned as she looked over the tiled floor to see Martha moving to start her work again, "I'd say this floor's pristine enough... I can see my own reflection in the tiles, probably a stray eyelash in my eye as well," she commented, biting her teeth together as she looked at her reflection and then smiling at her own stupidity.

Martha shook her head despite Jenny's hopeful look, "We haven't finished here yet."

"Would you like some help?" Amara offered the floor for a couple of seconds, ready to get down and help the women scrub away until her elbows and knees ached.

"No!" Jenny exclaimed when she saw Amara about to set the books down, moving to help them, "You mustn't, it's not proper!"

"Well, then," Amara sighed softly, "I must insist that you stop this insistent scrubbing – the floor is perfectly clean. I won't tell if you don't," her eyes fell upon Martha and she jerked her head to the side, "Go on, have your morning tea."

Jenny laughed, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. "Are you sure?"

"Enjoy your free morning," Amara called, nodding as she walked away from the two maids, hoping Martha would follow.

"I'll tell you what, Martha," Jenny called to her as she scrambled to her feet, brushing down her knees, "That Miss Lambert, she ain't 'alf a nice woman... never met anyone like her."

Martha grinned, standing slowly as she picked up her bucket, "You're telling me..." she moved to follow Amara as the woman lurked in the hall waiting for her with a bored expression.

"I'll tell you what, Jones," Amara sighed in exasperation, "This last month needs to hurry up and vamoose, or I swear, I'll use that damned Chameleon Arch on myself," Amara rubbed her head as she muttered, feeling a dull ache coming on.

Martha paused in her walking, eyeing her friend suspiciously before pulling her into the empty English classroom, "Right, how do you know all that?"

"I..." Amara started, but Martha had barely begun, ready to unleash weeks of pent up questions until she got the answer she wanted.

"It's funny, y'know, you _always_ seem to know things," she eyed her closely, "I get that you're techy and everything, but you know _a lot_ about _a lot_... how to make scanners, how to get rid of a possessive star, and how to operate the TARDIS..."

Amara blinked at her as Martha took a deep breath, "And you seem to know a lot about this Chameleon Arch, but the Doctor was very hush-hush about it... how do you always know?" Amara was silent as she held her gaze, "Just, please tell me... I'm your friend, you can tell me."

Amara sighed, defeated as she glanced around the hall before closing the door behind them, "Have you got that stethoscope handy?" she pressed as Martha looked at her, confused. "I suggest you go and get it," Amara collapsed into a chair, reclining in it as Martha marched from the room in her determination.

Smiling to herself, Amara pulled out the papers tucked inside the book that was sat atop of the pile, brow furrowing as her eyes skimmed over the cursive writing. She knew Martha's patience would run out before long, and the questions would rule her head... that she had _always_ expected.

She hadn't forgotten about meaning to tell her either, she'd been dropping appropriate hints every now and then – she _had_ told she wasn't human, and Martha hadn't forgotten that. She was also aware she'd told the Doctor, although that fact seemed dormant within his mind, thankfully.

She wondered how long it would be before he eventually found out about her entirely, how she'd lied to him from having met him properly... how she wasn't the only one, and how she'd neglected to tell him that as well despite Boe having told him...

The door swung open as Martha returned, the stethoscope clutched tightly in her hand as she shut the door, turning to look at Amara with a questionable expression.

Smiling, Amara took the chest piece, "You ought to put those on, Jones," she gestured to the earpieces as she tucked them in her ears, watching as Amara unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on her dress, slipping the chest piece down to rest against the left side of her chest.

She shivered when she felt the chilled whisper of the stethoscope against her chest as she guided it for Martha. The mental brushed against her chest, wandering as a startled expression crossed Martha's face when she slid the stethoscope from one side to the other several times.

"Everything all right down there, Doctor Jones?" she asked with a bemused expression at Martha's reaction as she took the chest piece to repeat the action.

Martha merely stared at her, "There's... there's _two_ ," she fiddled with the stethoscope in her hand, "Two hearts... you've got..."

"I should bloody well hope so," Amara tried not to laugh, "I don't think I could cope with only one fella."

"Two hearts!"

"Two thump-thump's, yes," Amara nodded slowly, eyeing Martha as she removed the chest piece with a sigh, "Playing clueless doesn't suit you at all, we _both_ know you know what I am... _who_ I am. I think you've known for a while, you just needed the proof... and I think on that cargo ship, you finally figured it out."

Martha's eyes widened still, "How did you- "

Amara looked away, smiling sadly, "You've grown distant... I knew something was amiss quite quickly and I'm the only one at fault for that..." she looked up to meet her gaze again, biting the inside of her cheek sheepishly, "I was going to tell you, back in New New York when you had cornered with my own guilt but- "

"In New New York?!"

Amara raised her hands in surrender, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I was prepared to tell you everything but you walked away, so I decided against it. I abandoned that plan."

" _Why_ didn't you?" Martha demanded, frowning.

Considering her question, Amara wasn't certain why she had dismissed the idea of letting Martha know so simply... it just didn't seem like the right time for her to tell her, she wasn't entirely sure. It hadn't felt like the right time, "I don't know. There seemed like an appropriate time..."

"You're like him!" Martha blinked, shaking her head in her overwhelming moment clarity, "From Gallifrey... a female Time Lord."

"Are we going with Time Lady?" Amara offered with a soft smile, "Alien's good, I don't mind that..." she teased, sitting upright under Martha's scrutiny. "I am your genie, Martha. Give me three questions and I will answer them at your leisure," she knew trying to making out of the situation would do little to please her friend, knowing that she was beyond frustrated about the entire circumstance they were currently in... she didn't want to make it any worse. "'Twas but a jest."

"I want to know _everything_..." Martha was oddly calm despite the fit her brain was throwing, the questions on her tongue, the confusion that was starting to give her a headache. "I'm guessing Amara's not your _real_ name? Just like the Doctor isn't his?"

Amara gave a short bob of her head, "Correct-amundo."

"Does that Torchwood guy know?" Amara nodded and she felt a stab in her heart, "How come he knows and not me?"

"I regenerated right in front of him and half of Cardiff. It was a bit hard not to conceal it..."

Martha stared at her, recognising the term immediately. "You what?"

Amara grimaced, "I was exposed to a lot radiation, went a bit wonky and got shot."

"Is that why you brought the TARDIS to Torchwood?" Martha questioned, knowing that the regeneration couldn't have happened that long before they met, "Because you knew you could impress the Doctor?"

"No, not at all," Amara chuckled, shaking her head softly, "That was Jack's fault for insulting me, and I couldn't help myself."

Martha shook her head, trying to reason with herself with how it was even possible for Amara to be alive with that war the Doctor often went on about – why didn't the Doctor know? She looked at Amara, trying to clear her head so she could ask her questions but her thoughts were raging, coursing through her mind.

"Now, Martha," Amara begun with a sudden grave tone, wanting her to listen to every word, every syllable with all the concentration she could muster in that moment. "The Doctor can't know that I'm this... it's imperative that he doesn't find out, not until I've handled everything... all right?"

Martha frowned again, "Why not?"

"I can't tell you."

"But this doesn't make sense..." Martha shook her head in frustration, running a hand over her face, "So, Boe was right all along? You were the one he was referring to?" she knew Boe had been right, no matter how many times the Doctor had told her otherwise – Amara was living proof!

"No," Amara shook head in disagreement, knowing Martha had every intention of bringing up Boe.

"What do you mean?"

"Boe said ' _she who walks among shadows, the saviour of those who have lost all hope. Watchful guardian and silent protector of those who have passed, those now, and those to come._ '" Amara recalled with a deep frown, grimacing at the memory.

Martha blinked at her, sitting on the desk behind her as she crossed her arms over her chest, "So, he was talking about you then?"

"Boe outed me to the Doctor," Amara sighed, recollecting how worried she'd been wondering if the Doctor had caught on or not. "The Doctor just didn't realise it..." she still felt guilt about deceiving him. " _'Blue eyes, brown eyes, greens. Eyes forever closed, so many faces, young and old. Truth is the substance of morality.'_ "

"It seems so obvious now," Martha commented, annoyed with herself that she didn't notice sooner. "It was there all the time, staring me in the face... it took me so long to actually realise it, put the puzzle together..."

"Boe knows how to unnerve us all," she commented, earning herself yet another frown from Martha, "' _He walks among them, changing faces. At his hands you will come undone.'_ " Amara shuddered as she heard the distant echoes of Boe's voice in her mind.

" _Who_ was he talking about then?" Martha pressed, leaning forward in interest, "Do you know?"

Amara sighed again, retaining her calm exterior, "I can't tell you that."

Martha scoffed, "Can't or won't?" she countered as the women stared her, prompting her to push off of the desk, "Come on, _it's me_... I won't be annoyed or anything, and I won't tell him. But I don't want there to be any secrets between us... you can tell me."

Relenting, Amara nodded thoughtfully as she reclined in her chair again. "A friend of mine, a close friend..." Amara paused, blinking for a moment when she felt tears brimming within her eyes. She had resigned him to his fate after all... "He, uh, he went mad... during the war, he was meant to release Gallifrey from the Time Lock using a Whitepoint Star."

Martha paused, staring at her for a long moment. She didn't really understand what she was going on about, had little clue really... "He didn't do it?"

Amara nodded in agreement, her face solemn and dark. "The Doctor being the Doctor destroyed the Link while my... friend gave his life, supposedly... the Time Lords never escaped."

"But you and the Doctor did," Martha challenged, moving closer still, "How?"

Amara hung her head in shame as she recalled how she had soundly fled at her mother's orders. "I was forced off the planet by my mother and because of the Time Lock, I couldn't return," she frowned, feeling Martha's hand seize hers, she smiled, "I was flung through time," she gestured to her wrist and grimaced disdainfully, "I didn't want to leave them... but this, this was used against me and I had no way of trying to help them; my TARDIS had been destroyed and I was useless," Amara sighed, closing her eyes in frustration.

Martha was silent for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say... she'd met two Time Lords – _Time Lady_ – who had participated in the Time War, both were apparently broken by the catastrophic event and yet, one was too stubborn to tell the other who she was... _'Mara had had a TARDIS of her own!_ "So, what happens when you find him, this friend of yours... will you leave or- " she stopped when she saw the severity of the look on Amara's face, not liking it one bit.

"You know the answer to that."

Martha swallowed, not wanting to believe it. "Tell me something different... please?"

"I've crossed every line, broken every boundary, Martha," Amara let out a long sigh, smiling sadly as she met her eyes, "There's only one outcome... I'm going to die."

Martha looked appalled by her answer, distraught and tears tugged at her eyes, "But... you can't leave the Doctor."

Amara squeezed her hand, "I won't deny my crimes and I won't run from them either. I am guilty but I'm _not_ coward," she had every intention to take him down with her when they eventually met, to sort out the mess she'd created when she sent him to Arcadia.

"When you mean die..." Martha trailed off, not wanting to even think of such a thing but finding that it was _all_ she could think about, "You'll just change? Regenerate?" her heart fell in her chest when Amara said nothing, merely staring at her quietly, giving no response. "You don't know..."

"I'll face whatever I deserve, and yes, I don't know what will happen to me," the thought of not knowing terrified her beyond belief, but she didn't want Martha to see her panic, to see how she was scared of what was to come. She couldn't afford that, "The Doctor will survive, like he always has but this... it's _my_ fault, and I deserve to face it."

"So, on Gallifrey..." Martha cleared her throat, hoping to change the subject and not think about Amara's impending death, watching as she eyed her at the mention of her home planet. "Did you have a job there... before the war, what did you do?"

Amara stared for a couple of seconds, tilting her head back before smiling. "I was a Lady Chancellor to the High Council of the Time Lords, a rank below the Lord President," Martha stared at her, looking lost and she smiled even more, "You know the Prime Minister? Well, say I'm the Chancellor to him."

Martha's gaze narrowed ever so slightly. "So, what's your real name?"

"We abandon our real names for new ones of Gallifrey; we choose new names..." she trailed off; she always preferred her real name, like being referred to by it, but she couldn't tell Martha, she couldn't... Relenting, she bit the inside of her cheek in contemplation. "It's forbidden for us to tell our real names."

"Please... if you won't tell me what you're looking for, then at least tell me that," Martha pleaded, trying to persuade her to tell her something, " _Please_..."

"It really is forbidden, you know."

Martha sighed, "What's gonna happen? The "Name Police" will come to take you away?"

"I abandoned my name for a title..." Amara smiled slightly, "People would almost always call me ' _The Lady_ ', sort of cringey when you think about it..."

"'Mara."

"Kliavia," Amara murmured quietly, "My friends used to call me Avia..."

"I prefer that to Amara," Martha remarked with a soft sigh.

"Thank you," Amara smiled in amusement, "But I'll be sticking with this one, it's less suspicious that way..."

"What were they like?"

Amara laughed, smiling widely at Martha before looking around the classroom, "They had no dress sense and terrible taste in hats. All pointy, gave off that ' _ding dong the wicked witch is dead_ ' vibe. _Awful_. Maybe that's why they disliked me so much..." Martha chuckled as Amara bristled, "I never wore the bloody hat. They were very political, we fought a lot."

Martha beamed suddenly, surprising Amara in an instant, "This is mad, bonkers..." she couldn't believe it, that she was talking with a Time Lady, she couldn't that Amara was like the Doctor and that she had so many stories to tell... she had so many questions, so many things she wanted to ask... but she didn't even know where to begin, how to start...

Amara nodded, "Is it?"

"This is crazy," Martha breathed, her hands covering her mouth as she registered all the knew found knowledge. "Crazy, crazy, crazy."

"Crazy can be brilliant," Amara grinned.

"You're a female Doctor, you're just like him. So are you gonna get together, like you know the whole shebang..." Martha wriggled her brows at Amara, a wide smile appearing as she watched her, "Repopulate Gallifrey?"

"No," Amara shook her head as she grew serious once more, "Gallifey is gone."

"Then why are you here? Travelling with him if you're _not_ interested?"

Amara knew her intentions were good, but she honestly didn't expect Martha to understand what she was facing... "I told you, my fate doesn't reside with the Doctor... I'm destined for another path. It's a mere coincidence that we met..." she bristled, gritting her teeth at the thought of allowing Jack to get the better of her, "Jack Harkness is to blame for that."

"Oh, my god, it's so obvious now... it was you!" Martha jumped in an instant, spinning around on the spot in sudden realisation, "You sent those Daleks to nineteen thirty. You're the Time Lady Sec was going on about!"

"A kindness they didn't deserve," Amara commented dryly, pinching the bridge of her nose at the mere mention of Daleks, "That's the thing about us, Martha. We're kind and others take advantage of that... at least that incarnation was. It's difficult to determine what we'll be like once we've regenerated; we're different from how we once were, different people..."

"So, how old are you then?" Martha questioned, finding herself becoming more engrossed with each passing moment.

"Uh, that's a hard question..." Amara laughed in amusement.

Gaping, Martha scoffed with an eye roll, "How can you _not_ know how old you are?" she couldn't believe; how could someone lose track of their age? It was beyond her, " _How?_ "

Amara chuckled, sighing, "I don't keep track, do I?" frowning in thought, she went quiet for a few moments, "He's over nine hundred, so... roughly fourteen hundred? A bit more, I don't know... something like that, I think."

"Fourteen hundred?!" Martha's voice was suddenly shrill and squeaky in her shock, making Amara cringe at the sound, "That's like... _long_."

"Just a bit," Amara sighed, "Even longing when everything's been so quiet."

"And that means what exactly?" Martha frowned, not following her meaning.

"I doubt you'd believe me, but I can show you..." she lifted her hands, ready to set them on either side of her temple, "I mean..."

Martha pulled away, eyeing her hands curiously, "Wait, what are you gonna do with those alien fingers of yours?" she pointed at her hands accusingly.

Amara laughed, flashing a grin, "Thought sharing... no harm done, sometimes it's easier to show rather than explain, and I thought you would appreciate it. Guaranteed no hypnosis or mind-reading, just thought projection – that's strictly him."

Martha's eyes widened, "How do you know that?"

"We're telepathically linked to one another as one Gallifreyan intelligence but because of this Perception Filter, he doesn't realise what I am... it interferes," Amara sighed, gesturing to the necklace at her neck, Aztec in style, shimmering a brilliant blue, "I can hear him in my head, he's _very_ loud... every thought. As odd as it sounds, I met you through him. I heard you through him..."

"So, you... you choose to be invisible?"

Amara looked down at the necklace and sighed, biting her lip. "Time Lords have so many enemies, enemies who would have gladly participated in the war if they had been permitted to do so. I got lucky with Sontarans, and I don't want another run in like that again. If the Sycoraxes had gotten their hands on me..."

"And he doesn't know?" Martha breathed, eyeing her carefully, " _At all?_ "

Amara frowned momentarily, "It's not for _his_ benefit... it was because of the Cult of Skaro, primarily. It just comes in handy with him, until I find what I'm looking for..." she trailed off, not really not wanting to consider the future for the moment, not until it arrived.

"And what's that?" Martha probed.

She shrugged, "I don't know," without another word, she lifted her hands to press them against Martha's temple, sighing as her breathing changed.

 _Kliavia glared across the room at Rassilon, her hands clenched into fists to avoid doing what she wanted to do... how she wanted to destroy him, to ruin him and to send him back to where he came from._ _Futile. There would be no changing what he'd already begun._

 _"I have done what none of you had the courage to do, Chancellor Kliavia."_

 _"Is that what we're calling it now?" Kliavia was barely able to control her anger. "You tried to destroy a child, and now you bestow your courage upon him as a duty?" She spat, bearing her teeth as she seethed. "This isn't courage, this is madness."_

 _"He will be brought back, just as I was." Rassilon supplied, uncowed. "We will survive, Kliavia."_

 _Kliavia drew herself from the table, looking down her nose at Rassilon. "There is no I in we, Rassilon. Remember that."_

 _Rassilon glared at her, anger polluting his mind._

 _Kliavia said nothing as she left the room._

 _She found Koschei in his rooms, just where she had guessed he would be lurking. "You are to go to Arcadia immediately." Kliavia breathed out heavily, her shoulders sagging. "You're needed there."_

 _Resting a hand on her shoulder, Koschei pulled her to his chest, searching her eyes. "Rassilon seems to think I'd be more use here, that I'll help with his plans to defend Gallifrey."_

 _"Go to Arcadia, Koschei." Kliavia commanded softly, reaching out to grip one of his hands. "Do you what you can there. Don't let them manipulate you for their own use. Rassilon will ruin you."_

 _Koschei frowned at her, searching her eyes._

 _Kliavia closed her eyes when she felt his hand caressing her face. "You must leave," She told him, moving away immediately, regret filling her gaze. "_ Please _. You'll be safe away from here."_

 _He didn't at anything for a moment, simply nodded and turning away to leave._

 _Of course, Rassilon had found out and she couldn't help but feel triumphant at having defeated his desires of genocide._

 _"You put everything in jeopardy, Kliavia." Rassilon was pacing, his fists clenched, glaring at her as she'd uprooted his plans._

 _"Genocide is not the way to do!" She spoke simply, holding his gaze steadily. "I will not let you corrupt us."_

 _"You'd condemn Gallifrey to save a soldier?" Rassilon neared her, and she braced herself. "You've lost your mind."_

 _"I'm not the who should be dead."_

Martha was silent as Amara moved away, finally content with knowing enough of the truth... she had a list of questions in her head that she wanted to ask, more details she wanted to know – it was a lot to take in, and she wanted to mull everything over, properly.

Glancing down at the floor, she found herself lost in thought as her mind became plagued with raging thoughts that she found she had little control over. It was a bit odd, to hear everything fall from Amara so easily while the Doctor concealed so much, all the important parts it would seem.

The part she feared most was either of them changing, regenerating... what if they became someone she hated? What if they didn't like her?

Coughing, Martha cleared her throat as Amara straightened, clasping her hands together neatly. "Who were those men? The one you told to leave, and the other one..."

"The man I was speaking with is the one I'm searching for... the unknown face of a friend," she grimaced a moment before sighing once more, considering the evil that Gallifrey had been abandoned with. "And the other was Rassilon."

Martha frowned when she recognised the name, "Rassilon?"

"One of the founders of Gallifreyian civilisation and was widely celebrated as the first Time Lord. He was, in fact, a corrupt megalomaniac. He was resurrected to lead us against the Daleks; he resumed leadership as Lord President," she saw little point in hiding her disgust for him; she loathed him for what he did to them, for the fate he forced Gallifrey to suffer. "A Temporal Cannon could not be defeated but Rassilon was so hell bent on victory that he didn't care..." Her fists clenched in frustration at the recollection, setting down her drink, she folded her arms over her chest and leaned back.

"You don't have to tell me- " Martha started, seeing the tension in Amara as she sighed.

"He wanted to create a paradox, one so severe that the resulting spatial-temporal rupture would rip the Time Vortex apart - it was suicide," Amara informed venomously, her tone resentful and bitter as she spoke. "It was genocide to sacrifice all of time itself; he wanted us to transcend into a non-corporeal collective consciousness that would be the only sentient form of life in existence." She had never felt so betrayed by her own people as she had when they had mostly sided with him over what had been right...

She smiled, seeing the evident interest upon Martha's face, knowing she was too polite to ask her to continue, "I was there when Arcadia fell, fighting on the front lines... it was awful, the war became time-locked due to the use of temporal warfare. So much death..." she broke off, staring into nothing before running a hand over her face, sighing deeply. "The Doctor stole something from my vaults, something he wasn't supposed to have... and he seemed to make everything worse."

"He stole something?" Martha gaped, though she wasn't actually _that_ shocked. "Wait, you said you didn't know him."

"We met briefly, he was my successor after I was forcefully removed by Rassilon from the Council," she should see herself being dragged away in her mind's eye, "Ever the talker... before you ask, no. We chose different paths."

Martha sighed, wishing she'd tell the Doctor... she wanted Amara to be happy, and the Doctor too... she didn't want either of them to be alone in their suffering, and she knew that the pair of them could support each other, and that they'd always be there for one another.

She could see it, she could see how caring he was... how much he cared about her, it was obvious and slightly frustrating... Amara would never admit it, she was far too stubborn. But she'd root for them, that was something she vowed to uphold to herself.

She'd get them together, no matter what happened she would make sure something came of it... she wouldn't tell him about Amara, but she would encourage them every now and then. The Doctor _already_ liked Amara a lot, which was blatantly obvious but she'd give them the extra nudge they needed.

"Martha?" Amara spoke when her friend had remained silent for a while, slightly worried.

Martha looked up to see Amara watching her, eying her closely as she contemplated the Doctor Amara... they were the last of their species, apart from the unknown man Amara refused to identify. She smiled, "I understand 'Mara, and I'm not mad or anything."

A smile spread across Amara's face in an instant as she embraced her tightly, "Thank you, brilliant... you're brilliant, Martha Jones. Fantastic and wonderful and- "

"Miss Lambert..."

Both women turned to see a sickly boy stood in the doorway, his skin having paled in a sheen of sweat that it made Amara's stomach lurch, "Andrews, everything all right? You look a little pale in the face..." she moved towards him, setting the back of her palm against his forehead, "You're running a bit of a fever."

"Do you know where Nurse Redfern is?" the boy coughed, bringing a hand to his mouth as Amara turned, reaching for a stray handkerchief on the desk to hand it to the boy.

"Uh, no, I can't pinpoint her exact whereabouts," Amara frowned, setting a hand upon the boy's shoulder as she led him out of the room, Martha following, "Is she not in her office?"

The boy shook his head, sniffing, "No, Ma'am."

"Right, well, we best find her then."

"Martha!" came the distant shouts of Jenny, the maid having spotted them down the hallway, rushing over to them, "Mister Smith's been hurt."

Startled, Martha's eyes widened as she turned to Jenny, "What happened?"

"Is he all right?" Amara added.

"He fell down some stairs," Jenny informed the pair of them, "The Matron's looking after him now."

"Ah, you're just in luck, Robert," Amara smiled at the boy, patting his shoulder, "Why don't you run on down to her office, and I'll inform Nurse Redfern that you're waiting for her, all right?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the boy nodded, trotting away, "Thank you, Ma'am."

"Thanks, Jenny," Martha breathed as she grabbed Amara's arm, pulling her swiftly down the hallway to find the man in question.

"Tickety-boo, sixty-two," Amara sighed lightly, a small smile appearing.

Martha frowned, "What?"

"Bingo."

* * *

Nurse Redfern, brow furrowed in deep concentration, was stood behind a squirming John Smith as she expertly cleaned the cut that had been dealt to the back of his head, rolling her eyes every time he shifted in his chair, grumbling and groaning. "Stop it," she chided with a smile, "I get _boys_ causing less fuss than this."

"Because _it_ hurts!" he called out, wincing.

"Is he all right?!" Martha swung the door open, marching into his private rooms without giving the action a second thought, leaving an amused Amara waiting at the doorway. Her concern for the human Doctor was admirable to say the least.

"Excuse me, Martha," Joan looked startled by her interruption, shocked that she'd had the audacity to charge in there without proper concern to do so, "It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking."

"My attempt at a knock was somewhat muted by Martha's admirable concern," Amara called, smiling as Martha rushed back over to the door, knocking on it to then return to where she'd been, "Perhaps I should have clouted the damn thing..." it wasn't that she disliked Joan Redfern, because she _didn't_ , she just didn't favour her treatment of Martha.

"They said you fell down the stairs, sir."

"No, it was just... a tumble, that's all," John mumbled lowly, watched the woman who lingered near the door, smiling at Martha with her soft verdant eyes that he could see from across the room, warm and tender. But he didn't want to seem the fool in front of her.

Today she was wearing a noir wrap skirt with a bow-collar navy blouse while her hair hung loosely, half-up-half-down in style, natural and entrancing. He couldn't help himself as he stared, giving her a quick look before adverting his gaze.

"Have you checked for concussion?" Martha glanced over at Joan, eyeing her.

"I have," she replied tersely, giving her a firm look before turning her attention back to her work. "And I daresay I know a lot more about it than _you_."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Amara remarked softly, "I'd wager Martha's capable enough... Joan, I've sent Robert Andrews down to your office; he's running a fever and he doesn't look at all well."

Joan sighed, "Oh, for goodness sake, these boys..."

"As I recall he was out in the rain yesterday without a coat, so it's his own fault."

"Ah, well," John beamed in amusement, "Boys will be boys, won't they?"

Bowing her head, Martha recalled that she was supposed to be the maid, moving to begin tidying his room, "I'll just..." she wandered off with a sigh, "Tidy your things."

John nodded, looking at Amara once more, "Please have a seat Miss Lambert," he gestured to the chair across from him, frowning when she didn't move, "Unless you're busy? I was just telling Nurse Redfern – Matron, um... about my dreams, they _are_ quite remarkable tales."

"I recall you mentioning them at dinner on numerous occasions," Amara commented, taking the seat with a smile, noticing Martha's head shooting up in interest at the mention of his dreams. "However, you never indulged as to what they were about."

"I keep imagining that I'm someone else and... that I'm hiding…"

"Hiding?" Joan pressed in confusion, "Whatever do you mean, John?"

"Are you sure it is not you who should be the English teacher and I the historian?" Amara teased, earning a smile from John in process, "What do you mean when you say ' _hiding_ ', if you don't mind me asking?"

"Um... er... almost every night..." he laughed, glancing at Amara as she sat, seemingly interested in what he was saying as he felt the matron's eyes upon him, "This is going to sound silly..."

Amara smiled at John, finding the human Doctor quite charming, "Imagination is the reality of the dreamer," she replied smoothly, regarding him softly. "You've been teasing me for too long now. My interest is piqued, so you must tell me."

"I dream, quite often that I... I have two hearts."

"Well then," Joan interjected suddenly, moving over to a doctor's bag that was sat beside her, "I can be the judge of that..." she then retrieved a stethoscope from within the contents of the bag before walking back over to John, leaning over a bit as she pressed the chest piece to his chest.

As she watched, Martha looked over to Amara to see her watching Joan very closely as Joan examined John, smiling as she stepped back, pulling off the stethoscope away, "I can confirm the diagnosis, just _one_ heart, singular."

John laughed at his own silliness, glancing over at Amara, "I have written down some of these dreams in the form of fiction... um... not that it would be of much interest..." he trailed off, glancing at Amara, wondering if she was actually interested or simply being polite.

"I- "

"I'd be _very_ interested," Joan called, drawing John's attention away from Amara as he stared at her questioningly, slightly disappointed.

Smiling, he moved towards his desk, picking up a leather bound, black journal. "Well... I've never shown it to anyone before," he stuttered, handing it over, glancing at Amara who was sharing a quiet word with Martha, having turned her attention away.

"' _Journal of Impossible Things,_ '" Joan read aloud, eyeing the journal for a moment.

Amara smiled at the title, though she made no move to look for herself, handing Martha the books she was putting away, "You can't slap her... she's the matron," she muttered to herself lowly, making Martha smile.

"Shh..." she whacked her arm playfully, drawing John's attention again as he heard Amara laugh.

"Just look at these creatures!" he heard Joan exclaimed as he turned back to watch her flick through the journal, her eyes scanning the pages, "It's wonderful," she turned another page, laughing joyously, "And quite an eye for the pretty girls."

"Oh no, no, she's just an invention..." John shook his head, folding his arms as he looked over her shoulder, "This character, Rose, I call her, Rose..."

Martha looked up at the mention of the name, intrigued as her eyes flew to Amara, who hadn't moved from her side, continuing to pass her objects without batting an eyelid.

"Seems to disappear later on..." he added thoughtfully, frowning slightly, watching as she turned the page again, revealing another sketch of a woman without a face. "Ah, yes..."

"Why doesn't she have a face?"

"Well," John sighed, "I dream about her quite often... I believe she was a companion of mine, but I can't ever seem to make out her face... it's always blurred to me, and I wish I knew who she was. Just so I can recall her, have some written memory of her... it hardly seems fair to me."

Martha looked to Amara again to see her tap the necklace at the base of her throat knowingly, demonstrating the lack of face was courtesy of the Perception Filter obstructing his regard of her.

"He was certain you were there last night..." Martha murmured lowly, causing Amara to stare her, "He told me this morning..."

Amara frowned at her, "How the..." she trailed off as Joan's voice rose up into the air, drowning out all sound of Amara's as she found herself startled by the revelation - she was known to John in his dreams?

"This is truly wonderful, John," Joan marvelled, moving to pass the journal back to him with a wide smile and watching as he crossed the room to offer it to Amara with a smile.

Taking the journal from him, she flicked it open and immediately smiled when she saw the pages crammed with writing and vast sketches: the console of the TARDIS, monitor screens... even one of the gas-masked victims of the Nanogenes.

Her eyes widened slightly when she turned the page to see a Dalek lurking there, her smile faltering slightly at the mere sight of it, "Such imagination..." she breathed, trying to maintain her happy exterior as to not alert him.

"Mmm," John hummed as he came to stand beside her, leaning against the desk, "It's become quite a frequent hobby of mine."

More sketches appeared, Moxx of Balhoon, some Automatons, the clockwork robots from Madame De Pompadour's era... so many... Amara turned the page again to find a sketch of Rose staining the centre of the page, "Definitely popular with the ladies," she mused in amusement, playfully eyeing him as he glanced away, averting his gaze.

Turning once more, she found inky sketches of Cybermen and others of the TARDIS, "Ah, that's the box, the blue box... it's _always_ there," he smiled, pointing to it in his excitement as Amara's eyes traced the drawing, "Like a... magic carpet, this funny little box that transports me to faraway places."

"Ah," Amara beamed, "Like a doorway then?"

"Mmm," he nodded again as he saw the page adorned with a mess of faces of around ten men, "I sometimes think how magical life would be if things like this were true," he commented thoughtfully as Amara's fingers traced the drawings thoughtfully.

"If only," Amara smiled fondly.

John stared at her as her eyes traced the pages, caressing the drawings. "It's just a dream," he laughed to himself as Amara turned the page to see several sketches of the watch on it.

Amara didn't know whether she was annoyed or thankful when the bell sounded, alerting them to the commencing of the next classes.

"Would you mind, Mister Smith," Joan nodded to the book in Amara's hands as the woman shut it, "If I borrowed your journal? It's a very wonderful book... I think I should enjoy reading it... would you mind, Amara?"

 _Well, seeing as you've used my first name... I'm bloody obligated really,_ Amara smiled and handed it over to her wordlessly, "Oh, absolutely," she smiled at the woman.

"Oh, of course!" John exclaimed, beaming up at her from where he was sat.

"Thank you," she smiled at him as she left the room, marching off.

Clasping her hands together, Amara sighed before moving to retrieve her books. "The wonderful, expansive world of literature..." Amara breathed in amusement, glancing at Martha with a frown, "Martha, are you sure you don't want me to reprimand Baines and Hutchinson for their behaviour earlier? I don't mind, and I would find it rather amusing..."

"No," Martha shook her head profusely, "I told you... it was a simple misunderstanding, nothing more."

"What incident earlier?" John glanced between the two women, hoping one of them would divulge whatever had happened, though Martha looked rather skittish so he turned to look at Amara fully.

Amara grimaced, "Racial witticism and slurs."

John immediately turned to Martha, "Why didn't you tell me? How long has this been going on? This is simply unacceptable and- "

"Miss Lambert here sorted it," Martha cut in, trying her best not to snort at his stuttering. "I doubt they'll be doing it anytime soon, sir. She put them in their place."

"Well, I should hope so," John gave a firm nod, "Next time, inform me of their behaviour and they will be dealt with accordingly."

"It's good to know we can count on you, Mister Smith," Amara smiled at him brightly, clutching her books to her chest.

"Just John," he corrected her swiftly, finding it felt odd for her to speak within so formally despite having known her for two months... he just didn't feel comfortable of her distancing herself when she felt _so_ familiar to him. He just didn't know how.

"Well," Amara sighed knowingly, "I really must insist on you calling me Amara, fair's fair... _just_ John."

John smiled at the playful words, "I think I can manage that, Miss- Amara."

"Wonderful," she returned his smile before retreating out of the door with a twirl, "See you at dinner, _just_ John!"

* * *

By the end of the morning, Amara had resigned herself to her self assessment that she wasn't cut out to be a teacher. It was making her far too rushed, too impatient and too anxious.

She'd found amusement in forcing Baines and Hutchinson to stand during her lesson, finding their discomfort retribution for their treatment of Martha – but the contentment barely lasted, and soon she was left feeling anxious once more.

Eager to leave, eager for the Doctor to return.

"Andrews will be fine," Joan sighed, approaching Amara's side as she strode along, "I think he'll remember his coat next time he decides to venture out in such foul weather," she explained to her.

"I think it's a trick, you know," Amara glanced at her, "To get out of lessons," she smiled when she saw the matron give her an odd look before a smile pulled at her lips.

"I had considered a similar thing."

Amara was about to reply when John appeared from around another corner, staggering with a large stack of books pilled high into his arms, "It's as if he wants to cause an accident," she mumbled to herself.

"Hello Mister Smith!" Joan called out to him cheerfully, causing him to jump and turn to face them, startled by their apparent 'sudden' appearance. While he was turning, a book slid from the top of the stack within his arms, collapsing to the floor as he blinked at the pair of them before contemplating how he was meant to retrieve the fallen book.

"Are you all right, John? Cat got your tongue? I do believe Joan said hello," Amara teased him as she bent to retrieve the offending book, struggling against the corsets – she damned the thing and their lack of room to bend.

"Hold on, I've got it... I've got..." he tried to move his foot to guide the book back to him, failing miserably.

Rolling her eyes, Joan sighed, "Oh for goodness sake," she moved towards John, halving the books in his arms to hold them against her chest, "Now, you can help."

John bent down, picking up the book before helping Amara straighten herself, "Thank you," she wheezed, blowing a stray strand of hair away from her face before she readjusting her corset with a furrowed brow, "Sorry... these are so uncomfortable, I'm still surprised I can breath and it's damn near impossible to bend over as well."

Joan eyed her dubiously before she allowed Amara to take some of the books from her, "If it's too much of a bother, don't worry wearing one every day," she told her with a soft smile before looking to John, "We appear to be holding your books."

Blinking, John realised that it was very much true, "Oh," he breathed in surprise, "So you are."

Joan laughed, "So, were they... going in any particular direction?" she pressed gently as John thought for a long moment, glancing around before moving.

"Yes, erm... this way," he briefly looked to Amara to find her flipping through one of the books in interest, "No, this way..." he turned abruptly back to the way he'd been heading in before Joan had interrupted him, drifting down the stairs promptly as the two women followed him.

"Do you reckon he's lost in a daydream?" Amara asked Joan quietly, amusement crossing her face.

"It's almost daft," Joan told her in a low murmur.

Suddenly, John halted in his movements to turn back to face them abruptly, causing them both to jump as he glanced at the books they were holding, making him groan, "I didn't think... I'm so sorry," he began to fuss, "I should have taken those from you..."

"Yes, they hold a mighty weight," Amara rolled her eyes, "It's nothing."

Joan hummed in agreement, "Quite right, I suppose it's more fair if we all take several each."

"Division of labour?"

"Exactly," Joan beamed, nodding to each of their stacks before they continued towards the library in a somewhat companionable silence while John stole an occasional glance at Amara, smiling shyly.

Joan coughed awkwardly, "There's the annual dance at the village hall tomorrow evening," she called out as she broke the silence, eyeing the noticeboard wistfully as they passed it, "It's been years since I've been to a dance, only no one's asked me, of course..."

"You don't need to be invited to dance, Joan," Amara commented with a smile, "Why should that stop you?"

Glancing between the pair of them, John looked rather startled, "I, er, um... uh..."

"Yes, well," Joan frowned at Amara for a moment, "Wouldn't that seem a little... odd? An widow such as myself turning up to a dance, hoping to steal another's partner?"

"Who _cares_ what people think?" Amara sighed, leading them down the stairs, "Why should that stop you? You've got enough fire left in you yet, Joan... cause a stir, it'll be refreshing and welcomed."

"I cannot believe I've allowed myself to be led astray by your infectious ways," Joan admitted, flustered as her cheeks became rouged.

"Ah, I've heard about this."

Amara frowned, "About what?"

"Well," John widely smiled at Amara, finding her clueless expression rather amusing to admire. "I can empathise with Joan... you have a similar effect on me."

Amara glanced back up at the pair of them, her brow having deepened in interest. "What are you going on about?"

"You make me feel younger," Joan admitted, seemingly embarrassed by saying so.

"Indeed!" John agreed with a firm nod of his head, "It is most infectious!"

Amara tried not to roll her eyes, scoffing at their words, "What a load of claptrap."

Joan beamed with a wide smile, finding the woman to be quite extraordinary to say the least. "Honestly, I haven't laughed so much in so a long time... it's a welcomed change," she argued, eyeing John in the hope that he would support her.

"Indeed," John nodded dutifully.

"Oh, no," Amara laughed, brushing their comments off easily, "I will not have the two of you fuelling my ego," she told them as they find reached the ground floor, making their way to the library where she moved to begin re-shelving the books she held in her arms.

"It's you," Joan insisted as she trailed behind Amara, "You and those boys... it remarkable to witness, how you manage to set them straight and how they listen to you."

Amara shook her head in disagreement, gesturing for John to begin handing his books to her so she could find their proper places within the shelves. "Anyone can preach Shakespeare and Dickens to these boys..." she told them, returning another book to its shelf, "It's nothing anything special, it's just words. Words and my boring voice.

"I don't mean that," Joan shook her head with another smile, "Look how you've changed Jeremy Baines and Thomas Hutchinson! Such a commendable influence, commendable, truly."

Amara suppressed a laugh at the praise, "Ah, well, I highly doubt it's _that_ special..."

"Oh, but _it_ is!" Joan exclaimed earnestly, "They respect you, and it's remarkable...they _actually_ listen to you, and learn."

Amara tried not to grimace at Joan's words; it wasn't that spectacular... in fact, it was how she had been taught and it was far similar to the Earth phrase: " _treat others how you want to be treated._ " She'd always thought everyone had be brought up the same way... she tried to shake her mind free from thinking on it any longer as she went about re-shelving the books.

John, however, didn't make it any easier. "Amara is rather something, isn't she Joan?" he beamed with what Amara assumed was a proud smile, one that made her smile in return, though she didn't really seem why her treatment of the boys caused such a fuss.

It was what she thought was normal... it was how she'd been treated on Gallifrey, so why should they be treated so different, no matter what part of history they were reliving.

* * *

She didn't like stew or the soggy vegetables floating around in its watery depths, and she scooped up the contents it drizzled from her spoon to drip below, make her stomach churn at the sight. Although, she had no intention of being finicky about it, she saw no point in that. Food was food but it was bloody awful, waxy and bland... she'd just have to stifle her disdain and slurp.

She could live with it, suck up the crappy meals while the Doctor and herself played at being teacher for another month, but with John Smith's presence and continuously persistence, she was finding everything rather difficult.

So, dining with the entire faculty each evening was becoming very tedious in her opinion. Something she was starting to loathe; it had been fun to get to know all of them in the beginning but she felt as if they was continuously prying, asking questions she wasn't sure she _even_ knew the answer to. Human nature and a half.

All plans of a platonic friendship with John Smith had gone awry... unsurprisingly.

To her annoyance, she'd been seated on the John's left, while Joan had snuck into the chair on his right – she found she still didn't like Joan's glances at him, and she made several mental notes to keep a close eye on Joan Redfern. She couldn't afford for a human to be lusting after the Doctor.

She didn't necessarily blame her; John Smith was the only man older than eighteen and under the age of fifty at the school, and of course, that was attractive.

Conversations were flowing smoothly, and everyone seemed content... _why is there always three forks?_ Amara's eyes bulged as they zeroed in on the cutlery, still perplexed as ever as she eyed everyone else to try and blend in, to act natural... it was bloody inconvenient to work from the outside in just to eat.

"So, Miss Lambert, how is teaching literature to the boys coming along?"

It had been Oliver Chapman, the mathematics teacher, who'd spoken up as he eyed her along the length of his pimply nose, arching his brows in question.

Amara blinked, trying to rack her brain for a competent response, "Ah, well," she smiled warmly, "I believe they're warming to the idea of studying classic literature to compensate for the practicality of training; they seem interested enough, and have even started to venture in the direction of questions."

"Really?" the mathematics teacher frowned, evidently surprised.

"Oh, yes," Amara nodded eagerly, "They seem practically content with studying literature that balances their military development."

"Remarkable," John sighed from her side, "Truly."

Amara shook her head, "Oh no, by all means... it's just me blabbering on about classic literature for a long time, though I am surprised none of them have fallen asleep. Even I'll admit, Shakespeare can become tiresome after a long while," she laughed.

"Nonsense..." John's smile left her momentarily dazzled, "It's just as paramount for the boys as history or mathematics."

Amara reciprocated his smile until she was certain she felt it... under the table his hand had crept up to settle on her knee. _Wait – what the bloody hell does he think he's doing with his bloody hand?_ She really, really hoped he moved- his fingers started to draw circles over the material of her dress, dancing along her skirt which made her nostrils flare...

She could feel herself internally screaming as his hand increased in its movements, stroking her knee enough to make her stiffen, shoulders crawling with tension before she managed to force a smile, "It's kind of you to say, John."

"Hear! Hear!" came the delighted cry from another portly looking gentlemen from along the table.

John Smith's hand shifted in its position on her knee as she turned to look at him, finding him watching her with a look she was certain was... _no_. She grimaced, moving to grab his hand in the effort to stop him, for him to only clutch against hers tightly, gripping her hand with such ferocity that it reminded her of nothing but the Doctor.

She could see the flush rising to his cheeks and that only made her dread increase, knowing the very likelihood of what was about to happen... what could happen. What was probably going to happen.

When the Doctor returned, she was certain she would kill him if what she thought was going to happen would _ever_ transpire.

She could help but find the more she got to know John Smith, the more unlike the Doctor he seemed.

* * *

"Stop it."

Martha snorted indelicately at the sour expression Amara wore as she sat, slumped next her on the bench, "I can't help it," she brought a hand up to cover her mouth as she continued to laugh at her friend's obvious dismay.

"This isn't funny," Amara ground out in contempt, bringing her head down against the table with a low groan in exasperation, "Try being on the receiving end of ex-Space Cowboy's wandering hands and then you'll understand... _under the table_ , this is _the_ worst."

"It'll be footsie next," Martha grinned.

Amara's head shot up immediately at that, falling in utter dismay at Martha as she scoffed, bristling at the mere thought. "No it bloody won't. I don't do wandering hands..." she shuddered, wishing the Doctor was there rather than _some_ human, "And his hand _wandered_."

Martha sighed in thought, smiling to herself wickedly. "It's a better alternative than Joan."

Amara rolled her eyes, "Oh, thank you for your support," she hung her head in defeat, knowing that John Smith would only persist seeing as she'd so valiantly 'clutched' his hand at dinner to insight his evident affections, according to Martha Jones.

"You know what you've got to do then, don't you?" Martha spoke up, drawing Amara's attention suddenly as she slowly smiled, "Reel him in, flirt with him..." she could see the horror in her friend's eyes but she merely smiled in amusement, "Keep him attracted, and think of it this way, you'll be keeping him safe."

Amara bit her lip, "Damn... d'you reckon the TARDIS planned this on purpose?" she couldn't but feel as though the TARDIS had been behind it, had had so influence over the Doctor in some way.

"This is going to be hilarious."

Running a hand over her face, Amara whined in vexation. "But I don't _want_ to encourage him..."

Martha shrugged, "You haven't got much of a choice, have you?"

"This is the worst."

"When you think about it, it's sort of poetic..." Martha trailed off, slightly unnerved by the dark look Amara was giving her until she managed a snicker, "You're a Time Lady and he's a Time Lord, it's like _destiny_. Oh, destiny!"

Amara glowered at her friend beside her on the bench, "Don't make me regret telling you, Jones. Are you sure you'll be able to keep quiet?" she countered, tilting her head at Martha.

Martha held her hands in up in own defence, "I'm not a snitch."

"Still, I might just wipe all recollection of our conversation while you're sleeping, just to be safe," Amara laughed when all the colour had drained from Martha's face, "I'm joking, I wouldn't do that..."

"Funny," Martha let out dryly, scoffing before frowning, "You never explained about the shocking business, though."

Amara shrugged, frowning suddenly at the mention of her hamartia, "I don't _even_ know the answer to that. It just... sort of happened, I can't remember how it occurred and I don't know why," she couldn't even recall how it'd ever come about, it just started one day and then progressed from there, no other explanation for it than that.

Just then, Jenny came out from the warmth of the pub carrying two pints, cocooned in her coat, hat and gloves, "You sure you don't want one?" she asked Amara as she set the two drinks down on the bench.

"No, thank you, it never sits too well with me..." she shook she head kindly, "Plus, it's a school night."

Tugging her coat around her, Martha shook as she fought off the cold, "Ooh, it's _freezing_ out here... why can't we have a drink _inside_ the pub?"

"Now don't be ridiculous," Jenny smiled at Martha, "You do get these notions! It's all very well those Suffragettes; but that's London, that's _miles_ away."

Amara sighed in thought, "I doubt they'd do anything if you took a stand, and sit in there, as your right. As long as you're paying customers, it shouldn't matter," she offered with a smile.

Jenny shook her head, "Don't give her ideas."

"But don't you want to scream sometimes, having to bow and scrape and behave, don't you just wanna tell them?" Martha asked in her frustration: they had to sit outside in the bloody cold just because John Smith was sat _inside_ the pub.

"I dunno," Jenny commented softly, "Things must be different in your country."

Martha nodded firmly, "Yeah, well they are. Thank God I'm not staying."

Eyeing her, Jenny frowned, "You keep saying that."

"Going anywhere nice?" Amara asked suddenly, a small smile tugging on her lips in her own amusement, "Travelling?"

"Just you wait... one more month and I'm as free as the wind," Martha breathed in contentment, looking over at Amara who was trying her best not to laugh at Martha's optimism – the Doctor would be back by then, and then they could continue on their adventures, soaring through time and space and then things would go back to _normal_. "I wish you could come with me, Jenny - you'd love it!" Martha knew the Doctor would never let Jenny go with them, and she doubted Amara would have any issue with it, it would be him...

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Anywhere," Martha sighed as she glanced up at the stars in wonder, "Just look up there... imagine you could go _all_ the way out to the stars."

"Brilliant," Amara agreed with a faint smile.

Jenny, however, laughed, "You don't half say mad things! I'll tell you, Amara, you spend a day with this one and she'll have you believing the world's full of strange creatures in the sky..." she chuckled.

Amara sent Martha another smile, "How remarkable," _thank God for Saint Martha Jones_ , and her optimism that they would get out of that school soon.

"That's where I'm going," Martha nodded to the sky above them, "Into the sky, all the way out..." she continued to watch the stars as Jenny laughed again, sipping her pint. Suddenly, a green light vibrantly flared in and out of sight as Martha watched, her eyes widening at the sight of it. "Did you see that?"

From where she had been sat, Amara's eyes had narrowed significantly, trying to make out what the light was as it shot across the starry night while Jenny had her back to it, "See what?" she asked with a frown, looking around in her confusion.

"Did you see it though?" she asked, more to Amara as she rose her feet, startled, "Right up there, just for a second."

"Martha, there's nothing there."

Amara shook her head in disagreement, "No, that was definitely something. Too fast for a meteorite and too slow for a shooting star..." she breathed in thought, eyeing the sky curiously, "So what was it?"

Jenny scoffed, rolling her eyes at the pair of women, "Don't put idea into her head."

"Who's that?" Amara asked as she distant shadow was approached the pub, their heavy breaths escaping into the air in their apparent panic. Her eyes widened when she saw the figure was Joan, "Oh, God..."

"Matron, are you all right?" Martha called out to her, panicked when she saw the distressed look upon her face.

"Did you see that?" Joan asked breathlessly, as she turned to look at the sky, "There was something in the woods... this light..."

Smiling as he stepped outside, John was surprised see the group of women gathered there in the cold... Martha with her maid friend, Matron... and his eyes widened when he saw the woman who had captured his attention, having never felt quite a feeling before, so entranced and enticed by her, a woman.

She was quite lovely, and he found himself growing far too attached to her in the short time he'd been there... she had saved him after all!

He grinned as he saw her stood beside Martha... such a witty and passionate mind that left him wanting more. He'd never met anyone as insight as her before, and he couldn't get enough.

"Anything wrong, ladies?" John asked, walking over to stand beside Amara immediately, "Far too cold to be standing around in the dark, don't you..."

"There!" Joan interrupted him, pointing the sky accusingly as the green light flared overhead like a shooting star, " _There_ , look in the sky!" she glanced over at John to see him staring up at the sky from his place beside Amara.

"That's beautiful," Jenny commented with another smile.

Amara frowned, "Martha..." she murmured, leaning towards her friend suddenly, "It's them."

"Definitely?" Martha asked, fearful.

"Commonly known as a meteorite," John spoke from Amara's side, though he didn't seem to realise that she wasn't listening to him, "It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all."

"Yes..." Amara whispered in confirmation.

"It came down in the woods," Joan continued to look through the forests of tree, as if trying to spot something.

"No, no, no, they always _look_ close, when actually they're _miles_ off," John shook his head in explanation before turning to face them, "Nothing left but a cinder," his eyes fell upon Amara and Joan, "Now, I should escort you back to the school," he told them sternly before looking at Martha and Jenny, "Ladies?"

"No, we're fine, thanks," Martha brushed him off as she remained staring up at the sky, missing Jenny's disappointed look.

Amara gripped her arm, "Martha..." she warned lowly, but Martha shook her head.

"Then I shall bid you goodnight," John smiled at them, before looking to Amara questioningly, "Amara, are you coming?"

"No- " she tried to politely decline his invitation but Martha being Martha forced her, pushing her towards him without saying another word to John's evident amusement, insisting that they would be fine on their own.

"You have to make sure he's all right," Martha hissed lowly, "I'll handle this..."

Amara's face contorted immediately as she went to argue, "Martha, I will not- "

"Amara?" John called out to her with a soft smile, waiting for her to join him. "We don't have all evening... are you all right?"

"Fine, fine, sir," Martha brushed him off again, nudging Amara forwards again, "Just go, I'll be fine."

Finding she had little choice, Amara resigned herself to allowing John to walk her back to the school as he blabbered on about the supposed meteorite he'd just seen, obviously amused by the stir it had caused in its wake.

Joan had abandoned them to stride back up the school while they'd adopted a dithering slow at John's insistence. "... the green hue was due to the atmospheric condition in which the meteorite entered... minerals, and..." he tried to assure as he offered her his arm, looping hers under his firmly, "It's all rather fascinating."

Amara couldn't help but smile at his nonsense, "So, science is your forte as well?" she asked with an arched brow as the man blushed, "Are you trying to seduce me with your vast knowledge? Is that it?" she added coyly.

John almost choked on the air at her taunting, shocked and not having expected her to say such a thing, found it hard to conjure a coherent reply as he fumbled around for the right words, stuttering in his flushed state.

"It was a jest," Amara laughed, patting his arm sympathetically, "I apologise if it wasn't particularly funny, but you do react in the most amusing ways."

"Ah, well..." John glanced away, smiling slightly, "I'm glad I amuse you."

"To no end, it would seem," she was digging herself a hole, a grave she would later have to bury herself in. Pausing, she found herself startled to see him watching her with a bright expression, "They're beautiful, though..."

John blinked, confused, "Pardon?"

Amara smiled at him, "The stars," she nodded to the sky with an amused glint shining in her eyes, "Just imagine what it would be like to venture through the stars, to see them up close and travel..." she wanted the Doctor back, and she wanted the unfamiliarity gone so that the safety of having normality could return... but in those moments she found she didn't really care if he opened the watch again.

Odd as it was, she didn't.

John didn't say anything, and so Amara carried on, "I would give anything to travel the stars," she told him, searching his face for some sort of recognition, "Wouldn't you? Just to travel and lose yourself..."

Suddenly a smile crossed John's face, "You really mean that?" he asked with an obvious hope in his voice, in which caused Amara to nod, confused by the sudden change in his mood, "I would have never guessed you'd be interest in the stars."

"Oh, I think they're simply wonderful," Amara grinned at him.

"Well," John smiled at her shyly, "My adventurer, _in my dreams_ , travels through the stars in his magic little box... not ordinary adventures, and they're rather fantastic with odd monsters I must defeat."

"They do sound brilliant."

"As it so happens," John beamed in sudden thought, "I dreamt of you last night."

"Of me?" Amara asked, her eyes widening as she finally confirmed what Martha had told her, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Oh yes!" John blurted aloud before blushing, his hand tightening around hers as they walked along. "Wearing these incredulous outfits, too, often..." he screwed up his face as the mere thought before lowering his voice, "You often wear _trousers_."

Unable to stop herself, Amara started to laugh at his reaction, placing a hand over her mouth to retain _some_ control, "How devilish."

"You think it's ridiculous," John shook his head, embarrassed.

Setting a hand on his arm, Amara squeezed it. "No, I don't... actually, I find it rather brilliant and intriguing, _especially_ your dreams. Forget my taste in clothing, tell me more about these dreams... please?" she asked hopefully, smiling brightly.

He nodded eagerly, somewhat nervous as he continued to eye her hopefully, "Well, of course... if I can recall them," John admitted with a chuckled, his nose wrinkling in bemusement as he led her along.

"Tell me a story," Amara prompted with a wide smile, seeing him looking flustered and chuffed with himself for having enticed her.

"Shall I start at the beginning?" John wondered aloud, smiling wistfully.

"Sounds perfect," Amara grinned, leaning against his arm as they strolled along, "A very good place to start... tell me about this magic box of yours, that brilliant blue, magic box."

John nodded, smiling at the warmth of her body pressed against his, "Yes, I believe that would be a good place to start... and well, it's the most remarkable thing, as I've told you. The box doesn't look at that large but it's much bigger on the inside. It's like... like..."

"Like magic?" Amara smiled to herself.

"Yes exactly like magic!" John laughed in enthusiasm, "Inside, there's this central pillar that sort of holds everything up, and the console is simply marvellous..."

"Tell me about the adventures," Amara breathed, interrupting him softly, "Tell me about the adventures through the stars and the people there."

"Of course, yes," John nodded, "An adventure... the very first one I can recall is one to do with the metal men, the Cybermen, is what I call them..." he concluded in satisfaction, smiling, "I think you'll enjoy this one."

Amara smiled, finding herself leaning further against his arm, "Me too, John."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone!**

 **So, this is the first chapter of four... hopefully, the way I've inserted Amara into the scenario is both suitable and believable enough to pass.**

 **I love John Smith. Not as much as Ten, obviously, but the love is there.**

 **I hope you like the update! I would love to know what you all think, all feedback is most welcome.**

 **REVIEWERS:**

 **Gust #1 - _Hi! It was a slight fear of mine, but from the responses, I would like to think it paid off. Thank you!_**

 **Guest #2 - _I didn't originally intend to put that Blink scene in that chapter but I thought it went well so it happened. I'm glad you enjoyed it though, it's always great to hear. Hopefully, you enjoy the update!_**

 **ShadowTeir - _Hi! The banana comment got a little carried away, but I thought it would be great to keep in there. I didn't have a minor conflict with putting the Blink scene in there but I thought it worked with the filler itself. Whether it paid off, I don't know - I just stuck it in there. Sorry for the slight confusion there, though. Hopefully you enjoy the next couple of updates! Thank you! XXX_**

 **Guest #3 - _I'm glad you liked the filler, I'm happy the combo actually paid off and was enjoyable. I hope you enjoy this chapter!_**

 _ **poisedrose - Hello! I'm happy you're liking the story and the updates; it's always great to hear! I hope you enjoy the next couple of chapters. Thanks for reviewing! :D**_

 **...**

 **Thank you as always for reading and reviewing,**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


	15. XIV

Having never been much of a sleeper, the sun had barely dawned when she found herself taking a much-needed trip to the village to investigate whatever had fallen last night... without John Smith nosing about and without anyone poking their oar in, hopefully.

She knew that her questioning wouldn't go down well either - no one ever liked a curious woman asking more questions than were warranted, even more unwelcome for those, especially men. To walk unannounced into a pub with a barman who didn't like women at the best of times.

"Listen," he told her finally, obviously exasperated due her insistent chasing him around the premises for the past fifteen minutes until she got the answers she was looking for, and she'd known she'd get what she wanted in the end. "As far as I can tell from all the chatter it must've gone down in one of the fields if it came down anywhere at all, that's all I know. Now go on."

"And you're certain about that?" Amara asked, thankful that she had a liable memory, and she was quite good at deducing... she'd picked up a few tricks that always seemed to be warranted around the Doctor, interrogating people to get what she wanted.

The barman sighed, "There's all sorts of chatter in here," he told her, polishing a glass feverishly, glowering at a finger print before polishing it some more, "I know what I 'eard."

"Right, well... thanks for that, you've been very helpful..." Amara smiled, moving to leave through the back entrance when he called her back again.

The barman smiled slightly, "Miss Lambert, why don't you try Cooper's Field," he told her softly, "It's the closest field to the village, can't miss it... maybe that's here this meteorite of yours is."

Amara gratefully nodded, "All right, thank you," she moved towards the door, exiting the pub as her stomach continued to churn with dread, and as she set out towards Cooper's Field, she greeted with a slight drizzle of rain as to dampen her spirits.

She wasn't that bothered about the rain, fussing over it wouldn't help, and she doubted it was going to let up either, so she resigned herself to getting wet, probably soaked.

Making her way to Cooper's Field, she squelched to a halt and scanned it cautiously, eyeing the contents as she tried to ignore the dampness of her clothes as they clung to her. The rain was slightly disorientating her vision as well which was making it slightly hard to see, especially...

Amara blinked, pushing her hair out of her eyes to look at the field again, glaring at it.

After a while, she was certain there was _something_ in the field, something that was invisible to the naked eye but because the rain was pelting off of it, it glowed green, briefly. The reaction warped the rain, and she knew if anyone else had witnessed it, they would have put it down to the trick of their eyes fooling but Amara was fairly certain that the Family's craft was docked on the grass, concealed.

Breathing heavily, she started to feel the surge of adrenaline flooding through her system as she continued to eye the field. She had assumed they'd landed there last night, but seeing it with her own eyes was slightly disorientating to say the least.

"Right," Amara whispered to herself, trying retain control and composure, "They're there, you know that... now, you can leave and go back to the school and pretend that you _never_ saw anything because if they know you've seen them, well, it's goodnight Vietnam. Boom. Finito."

Hesitating for a brief moment, she eyed the spot again before allowing her feet to carry her towards it suddenly, _you idiot!_ The voice inside her head screamed as she neared it, _don't do anything stupid!_

But Amara couldn't let it slide so easily... she _had_ to be sure, had to _know_ that it was definitely there and it wasn't just some delusion she wanted to _so_ desperately to believe. She had to confirm her suspicions.

She made her way through the brush, descending several slopes until the ground became flat beneath her feet and the rain ceased in its falling while she hesitantly made her way towards the invisible craft. She slowed, assured that she knew exactly where it but not willing to get too cocky.

Amara swore she could hear her hearts thumping away wildly within her chest as she foolishly reached out to make sure she didn't going wandering into it, though she was surprised when her hand bumped into a chilly metal a couple moments later, causing the ship to flare in its verdant hue, making her jolt back in surprise.

She had no idea she'd been that close to it, and neither did she think touching it would make the entire ship glimmer like that. Shuddering, she moved forward again and placed her hand against the cool skin of the ship.

To the touch, it was icy and damp and as she touched outside of the ship once more, it glowed the same vivid green. Finally when she pulled her hand away, it disappeared again and droplets of water cascading along its body, hat appeared to be thin air.

The ship was larger than she had expected, but then she supposed she was used to the size of the TARDIS and how deceptive it _actually_ was. She tried to estimate its size until a click sounded, followed by a door sliding open as her body froze at the mere sound of it.

Not wasting any time, Amara bolted from the brush at top speed, not even glancing behind her as she raced into hiding. Evidently shaken, she waited until she had caught her breath and her hearts had settled in her chest before peering out of the brush to see who had emerged.

Someone had left the ship, a man from what she could see. Frowning, she tried to make out their clothes but he had his back to her and she struggled to make out who it was from where she sat concealing herself.

She waited until he was gone before she clambered out from the brush and began striding off in the opposite direction of whoever had exited the ship. She couldn't run around trying to find out who they were anymore... she had to wash and change into a clean set of clothes before preparing for her lessons.

She couldn't help but feel if anyone had witnessed her fiasco at snooping, she would be penned as bloody Inspector Clouseau.

* * *

The whole business with the ship had been bugging her for most of the morning, and somehow she had allowed Martha to convince her to venture a little trip to the TARDIS after commandeering two bicycles from the school.

She couldn't believe she'd let Martha take her to the barn, that was the last thing they needed to do and yet she went willingly nonetheless, finding she'd missed the blue box. Throwing her a smile, Martha pushed open the door to reveal the TARDIS standing inside the barn.

"Hello," Amara grinned at the mere sight of it and immediately moved towards the familiar blue box, running her hands along it before pressing her forehead against the wood. "How are you?"

Martha handed her the key as Amara swiftly unlocked it to disappear inside, the ship humming as she found her way up the ramp towards the console to continue caressing the ship. Pressing her palms against the rotor, Amara smiled softly when the TARDIS hummed.

Martha watched as her friend talked fondly to the machine, seemingly lost as she chatted away softly, and well, the box seemed to like it well enough. But so rarely did the TARDIS to do so for her... perhaps it was because the TARDIS _knew_ what Amara was. Another secret that was being well hidden. It was sort of obvious as she watched her to fuss over it fondly.

"Talking to a machine..." Martha arched a brow as she smiled.

Amara rolled her eyes, "You should try it sometime, it's rather soothing," she glanced around the room with a soft sigh, almost becoming lost in the idea of being home on Gallifrey. "Besides, she likes it... don't you?"

There was another soft hum, almost a chirp in agreement that Martha thought she'd imagined the sound at first.

Smiling, she removed her hands from the rotor with a gentle sigh before allowing her hand to caress the controls of the TARDIS lazily. Sucking in a deep breath, Amara glanced over at Martha, "I supposed we should see his handsome mug..."

Martha nodded, arching a brow at Amara's choice of words but putting any thoughts to the back of her head. "Just bringing him up now."

Amara danced around the console to settle beside Martha to see the Doctor flouncing onto the screen.

" _This working?_ " he tapped the screen with a furrowed brow, " _Martha, 'Mara... before I change here's a list of instructions for when I'm human. One, don't let me hurt anyone. We_ can't _have that, but you_ know _what humans are like. Two,_ don't _worry about the TARDIS, I'll put it on emergency power so they can't detect it, just let it hide away_."

Amara scoffed at that, "I'll think you'll find I did that, mister."

"You say that _every_ time," Martha rolled her eyes.

"It makes me feel better."

" _Four, no, wait a minute... three, no getting involved in big historical events. Four, you._ Don't _let me abandon either of you. And fi..._ "

Martha twisted the dial, ignoring the glower Amara sent her as she sped through the rest of his speech, "We've listened to it before, just more and more babble about what _not_ to let him do," she sighed, brow furrowed, "Not letting him eat pears because that's _useful_... is it a thing from Gallifrey? Do you like pears?"

"He probably doesn't like the flavour of them," Amara shrugged in thought, "They don't bother me, though I think mushrooms are weird... not the best texture in the world, not the tastiest thing in the world... not too keen on the colour, really."

Martha laughed in disbelief, "Pears and mushrooms?"

"What can I say?" Amara smiled stupidly. "It's a regeneration thing; new mouth means new rules."

"But the Family's crash landed here," Martha breathed in sudden desperation, rubbing her temple in worry as she turned her attention back to the matter. "What are we supposed to do _then_?" she let go of the dial on the last reminder the Doctor listed for them.

" _And twenty-three_ ," he concluded with a deep sigh, " _If anything goes wrong, if they find us, then you know what to do. Open the watch... everything I am is kept safe in there. Now, I've a Perception Filter on it so the human me won't think anything of it, to him it's_ just _a watch. But don't open it unless you have to, because once it's open, then the Family will be able to find me. It's all down to you two. Your choice,_ " the Doctor walked off the screen for a moment before return again, " _Oh, and thank you."_

Martha looked over at Amara, who was frowning at the monitor screen. "And what about you? What happens if the Family find you?" she couldn't help but think that if they never got to the Doctor, they would use Amara as a surrogate instead.

"I'm fine."

"You don't know that."

"Martha, I'm fine, honestly," she tapped the necklace at her chest, "If he doesn't notice, then they won't notice... it serves its purpose. They think I'm human. If you want to believe something to be true, your mind will convince it to be so. People can learn to believe a lie."

Martha nodded slowly, "So, they'll think you're a boring human."

"They're looking for the Doctor, a Time Lord, they're _not_ looking for a Time Lady," Amara frown again as she glanced at the Doctor's image on the screen, "It won't be plain sailing though, keeping him out of harm's way."

Martha sighed, knowing that the situation was taking its toll on Amara and making her super stressed. She didn't take comfort in Amara being so panicked all the time. "We'll find a way to make sure he's safe," she assured her with a firm pat on the arm.

"I just…" she trailed off in defeat before wincing at the thoughts floating around her head, "I can't take another tedious conversation with that dithering human John Smith, I can't! It's driving me insane..."

"Don't you mean his _wandering hands_?" Martha teased, nudging her friend in the side.

"Oi," Amara sent her a playful glare - that had become something that had prompted to want to restrain the man. "It's not my fault he does it, is it a human thing?"

"You encourage him."

Eyes widening, Amara turned to look at Martha accusingly as her mouth fell ajar. "Do you see me standing there waving a flag, saying: " _Oi_ , _John_ _Smith... give us a kiss?"_ because I bloody don't," she huffed out, folding her arms out of frustration as Martha chuckled at the sight of stroppy woman.

Martha slung her arm over her shoulder as they strolled through the TARDIS, "I'm glad I'm stuck in nineteen-thirteen with you... I don't think I could handle all of this on my own," she beamed at Amara, allowing a soft sigh to pass her lips.

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not... but all right," Amara frowned in thought, "I'd rather we weren't stuck here, but you know, we can't always have our way can we?"

"It'll be all right."

Amara grinned as she hugged Martha to her side, "There's my pixie dust."

* * *

Timothy Latimer knocked on the door before him, staring hesitantly up at the name ' _Mr Smith_ ' as he recalled that the history teacher had mentioned a book that he thought he would find useful in his studies and had offered to let him borrow it.

Tim found the man rather odd, though he did seem to be normal enough, every now and then he caught him murmuring to himself under his breath. He had never brought it in conversation, never mentioned it to him...

Suddenly the door swung open, "Ah, Latimer... what can I do for you?"

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," Tim explained, clasping his hands together, "But you told me to come and collect that book from you."

John broke out in a sudden smile, "Good lad... yes, yes!" he beamed, having only just remembered that he had promised to give him the book, "' _The Definitive Account of Mafeking'_ by Aitchison Price. Where did I put it?" he ushered Tim inside hastily and started to search for the book briskly, "And I wanted a little word... your marks aren't quite good enough."

"That's not what Miss Lambert said, sir," Tim frowned at him, "She says my marks are commendable, and she was quite pleased."

John smiled at the mention of the woman, finding himself becoming quite lost in the mere thought of her... how he intended to _woo_ her. "Ah, yes but that is for English. I am a teacher of history, Latimer."

"I'm top ten in my class, sir," Tim defended, despite knowing that it was the truth. He spent so much time doing everyone else's homework, he barely had anytime to concentrate on his own studies.

John sighed as he sent the boy a levelled glance, "No, be honest, Timothy... you should be the _very_ top," he continued to search for the book, frowning, "You're a clever boy, you seem to hiding it. Where _is_ that book?" he strode over to a small library off to the back, "And I know why, keeping your head low avoids the mockery of your classmates... but no man should hide himself, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir..." Tim trailed off when his eyes fell upon the small fob-watch on the mantelpiece, his attention fixed as it whispered to him.

Mister Smith, from what he could tell, was still babbling away to try and encourage him but he was only half listening to what he was saying. He was drawn to the watch atop of the mantel, wandering over to it as he picked up the fob-watch, almost dropping it in shock as the voices emerged again.

 _"Time Lord... Timothy, hide yourself... I'm trapped, I'm kept inside the cogs."_

Frowning, Tim flipped the watch open as a golden light seeped from it, the voices swirling around to drift into his ears as they grew louder.

 _"In the dark, waiting... waiting."_

He quickly snapped the watch shut and slipped it into his pocket, making sure it would go unnoticed and safe in there.

Mister Smith waltzed around the library corner with the elusive book in his hand, "Fascinating details about the siege, really quite remarkable," he glanced down at Tim with a concerned glance, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir," Tim nodded, brushing of his worry, "Fine, sir."

John didn't seem so convinced with his reply but didn't choose to push the matter any further, "Right then, good," he sighed, handing the book to Tim, "And remember... use that brain of yours."

"You sound like Miss Lambert, sir," Tim smiled slightly.

"Ah," John smiled widely, losing his tie slightly as he felt himself becoming a bit flustered. "She's yet to prove us wrong."

 _"Power of a Time Lord."_

As Tim took the book, several images flashed through his mind that startled him... the history dressed in a strange clothes, holding something that looked like a blue torch, blinking and making odd noises.

"You're really not looking yourself, old chap," John commented, eyeing Tim hesitantly as the boy looked bewildered. "Anything bothering you?"

"No, sir," Tim shook head, hoping to convince the man otherwise, "Thank you, sir."

The boy left the room as quickly as possibly, barely managing to maintain any polite decorum as he fled, not wanting to be asked anymore questions.

He hoped to make it to his wrong where he could inspect the watch further, listen to the voices speaking to him about that man... the Time Lord, the Doctor.

* * *

Amara had stumbled to a halt having descended the stairs when the images of Daleks, Cyberman and the Odd suddenly flooded through her mind, causing her to stagger as the consciousness of the Doctor in the watch reached out to her.

She winced at images of the Racnoss and Lazarus seeped into her mind, the Sycorax appearing as she braced herself on the banister until... the images vanished. The watch had been shut.

Following the energy traces, she found herself coming to a door slightly ajar. Upon a bed, alone in the dormitory, was Timothy Latimer, admiring the watch in his hand.

She raised her hand to knock, hoping to speak to him when the bell rang to signal the change of classes, and knowing that the dormitory would soon be swarming with boys, she quickly made her way back to her classroom where she decided to continue marking the papers she'd never finished.

She knew the watch would be far safer with Timothy Latimer than if it had been left with John. The Family would never expect to find it in the hands of a school boy.

So, she allowed her mind to rest at that as she sunk into her chair, reclining in thought as she shuddered. John Smith was making it very difficult to maintain normal decorum when he trying to constantly to depose her platonic need to keep him safe.

How many different ways could one write ' _well done_ ' on an essay that was coherent enough for her to understand the pupil's learning of Shakespeare was beyond her... as was ticking. _Tick, tick, tick_. Perhaps the boys weren't cut out for English...

To her surprise however, John appeared in her doorway as she was about to move onto marking another paper, causing her to drop her pen at his sudden, unexpected appearance.

"Brilliant news!" he exclaimed with a wide smile as he set himself down on her desk next to where she was sat, startling her, taking out her pen to drop it with little care. "So, firing practice has been cancelled due to the poor weather which means I have the afternoon off – isn't that brilliant? Now, I know that the weather is simply horrendous for us to venture to the village... so, how about we take tea?"

Somehow he'd manage to tug her out of her chair but she had regained some control as Amara planted her feet firmly on the floor. She was still thinking over his words, wanting to believe she'd misheard him. "Firing practice?" she asked, eyeing him.

John frowned, "Pardon?" his hand falling from her arm as he watched her.

"You said firing practice had been cancelled."

John smiled, nodding, "Ah, well... we can't have the boys out there in such appalling weather, can we? It's practically raining cats and dogs out there," he sighed, "I'm rather glad, anyway, firing practice is never good in the rain and- "

"Guns..." Amara spoke hollowly, brow furrowed in thought as John blinked at her, "Firing practice involves guns I would assume, no?" she was never one for guns and neither was the Doctor.

"I thought... I haven't..." John spluttered over his words, "You haven't had any reason to go out when the boys are practicing but... you've seen the targets up on the range, haven't you?" his eyes widened at Amara's darkened expression and he rushed to amend himself, blustering over his words. "You must have heard someone mention it..."

"No, I don't recall it ever being mentioned in my earshot," Amara snapped as John recoiled from her tone, "But I appreciate you telling me."

John frowned, "Amara..."

"So... is it compulsory for all the boys to use them? To participate?" she countered, eyeing him as he became flustered with her questioning.

"I- I well I don't really think it's any of your concern..."

"They're children!" Amara found herself yelling all of a sudden when images of the Time War flashed within her mind. John, taken aback, recoiled once more... Rassilon's smirking face. "You're teaching them how to use _guns_..."

John stared at her, dumbfounded by her outburst, "It... teaches the boys discipline! Coordination and... erm..." he tried to find the right words to explain himself but Amara refused to listen to anymore of it as she pushed past him to march down the corridors, past a swarm of boys who made a poor show of pretending they hadn't heard a single word.

"Where are you going?" John called out after her.

"Elsewhere," Amara snapped, not even bothering to spare him a look as she strode from her classroom, up the stairs with all the ferocity she could manage in those moments.

Thankfully, John didn't follow her.

It made her sick to her stomach to think that those boys were training with guns, being taught how to handle and use them to inflict injury upon others if it ever came to that. She could see it in her mind's eye, all the white crosses, the ditched filed with bodies, soldiers lying forgotten in the mud.

She had _seen_ wars, and she had fought in them as well... all the way across the universe... so many deaths, so many young deaths for unjustified causes.

She had wielded more than her fair share of weapons in order to protect herself but she had never condoned the use of weapons at all... to kill another being would never be something she ever wanted to do. She knew many of those boys at that school would fight, kill and die in the name of King and Country.

She knew those boys, had gotten to know them in the short time she had spent teaching at the school, and many of them were just _boys_ who still needed help knowing their Shakespeare.

...

 _Her feet were planted in a field of red grass which swayed in which direction the next explosion sounded, blades of grass illuminated equally by the suns and the light of explosions in the distance._

 _Her hearts broke as she saw them, Dalek vessels and TARDISes falling from the sky like the shooting stars she dreamed off._

 _People were running, screaming, dying, and she, the Lady, was utterly helpless. Tears burned her eyes as her hearts ached at the mere sight. She yearned to end all the suffering, but she knew she would only create more._

 _Rassilon disgusted her. Her mother informed her that Rassilon, corruption at its finest, planned to take the Time Lords to abandon everything to leave Gallifrey at the hands of the children of Skaro. She couldn't stand aside and watch him commit genocide, watch as worlds burned, as millions died._

 _She stood, watching as her world burned around her. She didn't know what to do._

 _"It's the Lady!" a voice called out._

 _She glanced around to see a small boy with matted hair, bleeding, leading a small group of two others who appeared to have been hiding. Kneeling down to their level, she frowned. "What you still doing here?"_

 _"They're looking for you everywhere... the Daleks and Time Lords." She inspected the wound on the boy's arm, frowning at how severe it was._ _"Please help us," His eyes were so wide with hope and brimming with tears that she didn't know what to say for a moment. She couldn't leave them there._

 _"There's nothing I can do."_

 _"You're just like them..." The same child spoke, "You're just another one of them."_

 _Her hearts constricted as she stared at them all. She couldn't leave him, she couldn't... she wouldn't... "Quickly... come on." She lifted the boy into her arms and ushered the others in front of her._

 _Kliavia blanched when she saw no available cover. Nothing. Not even any debris. She glanced down at the children and swallowed thickly. "Right, we're going to need to run and you all need to stay close to me. That is very important." She chanced a glance up at the sky. "When I say run, we run. Understood?"_

 _They all nodded in unison and she stole another glance at the sky, steadying herself. "Run."_

 _She sprinted, despite knowing the children would struggled to keep up, but she need to get to her TARDIS. She held the boy to her as she closed the distance between herself and the TARDIS. Hands frantically shaking, she rooted around for the key, panicking when she couldn't find it in its rightful._

 _Placing the boy on the ground, she checked everywhere else until she retrieved the key and went to force it into the lock. The key pinged off and landed in the grass somewhere._

 _Staring at the bloody thing, she tried to touch the door but her hand caused an unseen force field to ripple. "No..." She muttered, her eyes maddened as she slammed her fists against it in protest. "Bugger... Right, we have to go back. Is that understood?"_

 _Spinning around on her heel and saw the three children looking at her, hesitant as she ran back over to them, pushing them along as they all broke out into a run._

 _Suddenly she was thrown as a once distance whistle grew nearer and nearer. The blast hit her, deafening her as her body hit the field around the TARDIS. Struggling, her vision grew darker and darker, black spots clouding what she could until only flames danced before she slipped into unconsciousness._

...

Her hearts broke to imagine them in battle. She abhorred violence, and for good reason. Nothing good came of killing others. She couldn't support it, she _wouldn't_ support it.

Feeling a hand upon her arm, Amara swung around hastily, "Might I have a word with you?" Amara was shocked to see Joan eyeing her carefully, and despite her frustration, she nodded.

"Am I in trouble?" Amara asked with a small smile.

"Well," Joan sighed, stroking her chin in thought as she smiled at the woman, "What is the matter with you?"

Licking her lips, Amara stifled a laugh, contemplating whether or not to tell the matron about her ludicrous reaction to firing practice. "Why would anything be the matter?"

"I'm not blind which means I do notice things," Joan retorted, eyeing the other woman dubiously, "Something has obviously bothered you... I'd go as far to say upset you, rather."

"It's nothing, honestly," Amara brushed off, not wanting to really go into the matter, but knowing that the woman wouldn't let up either.

Joan remained silently, waiting for her to speak again but Amara merely stared at her blankly, not moving to speak.

Eventually, the older woman relented with a soft sigh. "You do know that if you ever need someone to talk to..."

"Yes, of course," Amara nodded in understanding as she moved to leave, "Thank you, I'll see you later..." her eyes widened when she caught sight of Tim, walking alone and slowly along the corridor in front her.

Closing her eyes, Amara rushed to intercept him as quickly as she was able. "Timothy," she smiled at him despite the worried look on his face, "Everything all right?"

"Yes," Tim didn't meet her eyes, looking anywhere but at her.

Amara frowned, "What's wrong?" when the boy didn't answer, her worry increased, "Tim, what happened? You can tell me, and I can promise I won't bore you with a lecture on why you should be concentrating on studying when you're clearly not happy."

The boy laughed, "Really?"

"Oh, of course," Amara gave a firm nod, "I doubt Shakespeare could ever help you in this situation..."

Tim's breathing echoed through the hallway as he bowed his head before he slowly raised it to find her eyes as he stared straight at her. "Have you ever... do you ever see things in your head?" he asked suddenly, his quiet voice reaching her ears. "Things that get in your head? Things that take you away from the present?"

"What do you see?" she asked, noting the worry crossing his pale face, the fright and uncertainty.

"I can't tell you," he said finally, not looking at her again, looking past her shoulder, "I'll just leave you to get on..."

"You don't have to rush off, Tim," Amara called him, pleading with him to stay and talk to her. "I'd very much like to hear about what you see..."

"No, no..." Tim shook his head, moving to walk around her, "Thank you, for... listening to me, even thought I sound like I've lost my wits," and with that, he took off, desperate to get away in his quick dash as she stared after him.

"I don't believe that!" she shouted after him, wishing he would just confide in someone before something serious happened to him.

Running a hand along her face in frustration, she moved to return to her class room when she saw Rocastle approaching her from the end of the hallway, "Miss Lambert," he called out to her, "May I have a word with you?"

Knowing she really didn't have any options, Amara allowed herself a nod as the headmaster glanced around them for a few moments before marching off towards his office, leaving her no choice but to follow.

Once there, she was meant with a lecture she'd been expecting since having seen the collective of boys outside her classroom twenty minutes ago.

"Miss Lambert," Rocastle started, his voice stern, "I've been made aware that you caused quite a scene this morning, and I will have you know you will _not_ do that again. It's unseemly and simply unprofessional for you to criticise my curriculum in front of the students..." he paused momentarily to gather his bearings, "You embarrassed not only yourself but the entire teaching staff here at Farringham, and if you cannot learn to hold your tongue, then you will find yourself without employment here."

Amara stared at him, trying her hardest not to glower.

"Is that understood?"

Her hands curled into fits so tight that she could feel her nails digging into the palm of her hands. Rocastle, to her fury, reminded her somewhat of Rassilon, something she didn't want to consider. She felt humiliated, but despite her pride, nodded. "Yes, sir," she managed through gritted teeth.

With a nod, Rocastle dismissed her without even bothering to look at her, "That will be all, Miss Lambert."

Once she was out of his office, she sucked in a deep breath to stop herself from going back in there and saying something she would regret, setting her jaw to return to her room, to continue to mark those blasted papers if it meant she could take her mind off of it.

What good came of warfare? What good came of murdering others?

She had barely begun actually grading the paper with a sufficient mark when John appeared in the doorway to her dismay, "Come to add salt to the wound?" she muttered darkly under her breath, " _What_ John?" she demanded.

John was taken aback by her stern tone, barely managing to meet her gaze when he spoke to her, "I just thought I would let you know that today's firing practice will be carried out tomorrow..."

Amara stared at him, not entirely sure why he had come to tell her that. "And I need to know that because?" she replied with an arched brow which made him flush.

"Well, I- I thought I should let you know," he spluttered over his words nervously, "Seeing as you're clearly still angry with me, I only wanted to inform you myself to spare another need for a disagreement... to warn you."

Despite her annoyance, Amara couldn't help but feel sorry for him... and he'd found the courage to apologise for something that was _her_ fault. "Right," she nodded in her awkwardness, "Well, erm... thank you..."

John Smith caught her eyes and for a moment, she knew he wanted to say more but he closed his mouth, managed a smile before walking off, his hands firmly clasped behind his back with his head bowed, leaving her along with a sudden feeling of guilt in her stomach.

John, she winced, seemed to be very good at making her feel like a total arse.

* * *

She didn't know what entirely possessed her or why she had allowed herself to venture there. Her stomach had tightened at the mere sounds, and she wondered how she'd managed to _miss_ the sounds in the first place as the boys wandered around with guns in front of her.

The range was alive with animated boys, targets set up while John stood supervising the set up of the gun and all the other assorted equipment while she stood, watching from afar, not quite trusting her not to make another scene out of her anger.

"Concentrate!" John called from behind the bunker of sandbags, stood in front of the targets as he paced.

Even from where she stood, she could see John was being particularly stern with the boys as they seemed to be deliberately causing trouble, larking about and answering him back.

She saw him tense when the headmaster approached, exchanging a few sharp words before silence fell.

She continued to watch them as they began their drills, one boy feeding the bullets while the other aimed the gun for several rounds before they swapped places. The shots seemed to come quite fast, and found herself eyeing it in frustration until she felt a pair of her on her.

She found John's eyes upon her, and he looked surprised at first but then he glanced away as though he'd been caught doing something wrong. She carried on watching him as he coached the boys, though she couldn't make out what he was saying, but she knew his voice was steady but his expression, told another story.

Each time he had touched one of the guns, he winced and Amara couldn't help but wonder if it was because she was watching or if he was always so discontent when it came to guns.

"Miss Lambert..."

Amara turned, startled to hear her name being called as she saw the Matron approached quickly, making her groan under her breath, "I went looking for you in your classroom but you weren't there," she told her breathlessly, "I wondered if we might continued our conversation from yesterday..."

Amara noted that the Matron's words had died in her mouth, rousing a frown from her when the sound of loud shots made the woman jump, watching as the other woman went pale, "Are you all right, Matron?"

The woman smiled weakly, "I'm afraid I don't much like guns,"

"Ah, me neither," Amara told her softly, turning back to the firing range with a frown, "I don't believe John likes them either if I'm entirely honestly," she added, eyeing the man in question, "I was annoyed with John when he informed me of the practice... I don't condone the use of weapons, and that he should be _helping_."

The Matron nodded with a sudden realisation as she looked between Amara and John where he was stood supervising the drills, "Is that what you were upset about yesterday?"

"Yes, I mean it's not that he's not a good man, but these boys... they're _just_ boys, and I don't like know that he's teaching them how to fight, how to kill... how is it _good_ for them?"

The Matron smiled grimly, "Don't worry, I quite agree with you... but unfortunately, it's not our place to..."

"Who's to say it's not our place?" Amara interrupted with frown, her temper flaring suddenly – she was sick and tired of sexism. "We should get just as much say in the education of these boys as the _men_... I've got a good mind to go over them a give them piece of my mind, and the headmaster... they're training them to murder, and I can't..."

Amara frowned as the Matron laughed, "Goodness... you are a force to be reckoned with aren't you?"

"Don't know about that," she muttered in reply, scowling.

"Well," the Matron began, "Miss Lambert- "

"It's Amara," she interrupted as the other woman look up at her, startled but her interjection. "Miss Lambert sounds too formal, wouldn't you agree?"

The Matron nodded in agreement, "Well, then you must remember to call me Joan if I am to call you Amara."

"Joan?" Amara repeated.

"That's my name... Joan Redfern."

The two women shared a smile between them, "I'm sorry, Amara, I didn't to pry into your business... it's just you looked rather upset when I bumped into you yesterday..."

"Well," Amara tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I never thought he would be the type to teach them how to fight..."

Joan smiled sympathetically, "I confess I don't know John very well at all," she admitted, glancing briefly at John, "But he seems very fond of you... do you know if he fought in the war at all?"

Amara blinked at her question. Her eyes trailed to John where she considered him for a moment as he paced up and down the row of boys, wondering slightly. She guessed the TARDIS had fabricated memories of him fighting in a war... but, he'd never said anything about it.

The Doctor _very r_ arely talked about the Time War.

"Yes," she confirmed, not caring if it was a lie. He'd fought in a war, and that was good enough... it wasn't like Joan was going to go and ask him herself, or at least, she _hoped_ she wouldn't, "He briefly mentioned it, though he doesn't really like speaking about it from what I can gather..."

"Ah, well, then it seems we have that in common, then... not that you're married or anything, but I remember when my Oliver came home on leave- " Joan suddenly stopped, frowning deeply as Amara glanced at her.

"Oliver?" she asked softly, seeing Joan blink back the tears.

"My husband," Joan smiled softly, swallowing, "He was a soldier, shot at the battle of Spion Kop... I... well..."

Amara rubbed Joan's arm, "I'm sorry," she told her gently, feeling guilty for prompting her in the first place.

"It was a long time ago now... a lifetime really," she looked up at her, "What you must know if that war changes a man... and Oliver, he rarely spoke about his experiences during the war... but there was always a glint in his eyes, an awful look. I was so very angry at the army for doing that to him..."

Amara smiled sadly, "I've known John for a small while... and he seems so sad, and I don't know..."

"He's needs someone to help him forget," Joan told her with a gentle smile, "A young woman who can love him, make him happier..."

Amara didn't say anything.

"I think you should speak to him," Joan added suddenly, "I think that you should consider how he seems to feel about you... you need to talk about this as well..."

"I know it wasn't his choice," Amara replied, her hearts lifting slightly.

"John isn't the type of man who would enjoy warfare and bloodshed just to prove himself to colleagues, however, I implore you to ask him..."

Amara nodded before suddenly hugging the Matron, causing the woman to become startled by the contact before returning the embrace, patting Amara awkwardly on the back, "Thank you," Amara told her as she pulled away.

Soon enough, the Matron bid her farewell and she found herself alone on the patio, watching as she stood breathing in the fresh air.

Having obviously noticed the Matron's departure, Amara watched as John strode over to where she was stood, a determined look crossing his face as he came to stand before her, firm and confident.

Amara smiled as she caught Timothy striding by her, a grim look upon his face, "Hello, Tim," she greeted him as the boy stopped and nodded to her quickly.

"Hello, Miss Lambert," he gave her a nod before rushing off towards the drills, eyeing him curiously as she stared after him.

Nodding to the boy, she eyed John curiously. "What did you do to him?" she asked with a frown as John smiled, shrugging, "Rattle him on the head with a book, maybe?"

John sighed, watching the boys moving back towards their stations, "It's shame... he's become quite distracted as of late, I've tried to get through to him but it doesn't seem to go in..."

Amara stared at him, "Did you?" she asked, her eyes trailing over John's face as she smiled, watching his mouth twitch as she forced herself to stop. She couldn't flirt with John Smith. She couldn't do that.

John glanced over her shoulder suddenly as Amara followed to see Rocastle lurking once more, observing as he wondered along, making her turn to look at him again "Right... I'll just watch and just try to behave."

John retreated from her to approach the station once more, his eyes trailing back to her softly. "Hutchinson, excellent work!" he commended as his voice reached her.

"Cease fire!" Rocastle ordered as Hutchinson quickly took the chance to complain about his firing partner, poor Timothy Latimer.

Amara frowned as she crossed her arms, glancing between John and the boys to try and make out what they were saying. She pitied Tim, and the ways the other boys picked on him, how he was pushed about and made fun...

The boys took up their position again but then stopped soon after, the sudden uproar of complaints as Hutchinson began berating Latimer again, loud enough so that Amara could hear him soundly.

"The stupid boy is _useless_!" he exclaimed in outrage, the fury radiating off of him before turning to look at John with a hopeful expression, "Permission to give Latimer a beating, sir?"

Amara could feel her hands curling into fists as she stopped herself from marching over there, shaking the damn boy to put some sense into his head. She caught John's eye when he glanced over at her quickly before turning his attention back to the group.

He couldn't condone it... _he couldn't_.

"It's your class, Mister Smith," Rocastle acknowledged, nodding to the two lads in front of them as John paused for along moment, considering his options.

"Pemberton," he finally called and his voice was strong, commanding. "Smythe, Wicks. Take post. Baines, Hutchinson... why don't you both take a moment. Latimer, go and clear your head."

"But sir!" Hutchinson protested in outrage.

"Hutchinson," John voice turned stern as the boy's face fell into a scowl as he slinked off to the side, muttering aloud to himself.

"Just because Miss Lambert is watching doesn't mean..."

"I beg your pardon Hutchinson?" John called out sharply which made the boy freeze, caught out. "I shan't have you speak like that in the presence of Miss Lambert... apologise to her this instant. _Go on_. "

Amara watched as Hutchinson strolled over to her, ground out his apology with a defiant look until she smiled and patted his arm before nodded in acceptance as Baines wandered after him, shooting John a look before the pair of them trounced off.

Amara eyed John from where she was stood, seeing the uneasiness in his stance as Rocastle approached him, but she couldn't help but smile widely, content with his decision for having chosen a different outcome than the obvious one.

John saw her smile and stared before she turned away to retreat into the school once more, her smile never faltering for a single moment as she left, content that John Smith didn't condone the use of violence.

Amara paused however and stopped short at the sight of someone moving away from one of the windows above her. Squinting, she tried to make out who it might have been but their movements had been too quick. Sighing, she continued her return inside the school without glancing at the window again.

She didn't see the figure reappear again.

She couldn't help but feel smug at having gotten the better of John Smith and having influenced his decision so easily that it made her own smile widen even more until a hand grasped her shoulder, pulling her back.

"So, I've been wondering..." came the soft voice of Martha as Amara glanced at her, "Seeing as he's so smitten with you... how about you play into that?" she frowned when Amara didn't reply, "It can't be that bad, obviously the TARDIS planned it and all- "

Amara closed her eyes, "You want me to feed the fire..."

"You're almost as dramatic as he is."

She sighed, looking at Martha steadily, "I've already resigned myself to flirt with him, and now you want me to go the full whack?" she sucked in another sharp breath, "Damn it, Martha."

Martha frowned, "It won't be _that_ bad."

"You're joking," Amara shook her head, "When he opens that watch... he'll remember everything, and I mean _everything_ – you think I want him to see John Smith and me, doing... no, thanks," she shook her head distastefully. "God, it'd be awkward."

"Yeah, but like the watch, your Perception Filter is working on John, right?" Martha pressed suddenly, eyeing Amara closely.

"His memories as the Doctor are locked away in his mind," Amara explained quietly, folding her arms as they strolled along together. "His entire being as a Time Lord are inside the watch, but this," she tapped the base of her neck, "This disorientates others perception of me, but with him being locked away in the watch, it doesn't work on John and the watch, well... I should imagine it will reach out."

Martha sighed, "Why are you being so difficult?"

"Because I don't understand why he's attracted to me, and I don't entirely feel comfortable with it either. I don't want the Doctor to remember anything that John wanted in me because I don't want to eliminate the memories he has of Rose because the human him wanted... me."

"But that's good..." Martha smiled, her need for them to get together flooding through her again, "It'll be good for him to move on."

"And when he finds out?"

Martha shrugged her shoulders, "Well, it'll be good for him... to know he's not alone, and that you could..." she didn't understand why Amara didn't want the Doctor to know who she was, to know that he wasn't alone... she could only imagine how elated he would be. How happy... the mere thought made her smile.

"No," Amara interjected Martha's thoughts with a stern tone, shaking her head profusely. She wouldn't ruin his life when he was still _so_ young. "I won't use what I am as a way for him to forget Rose, to cling to this ideology that he needs me. I _won't_ do that."

Martha frowned at her, conflicted as she tried to think of something to say, something to convince Amara to change her mind...

"I'll keep an eye on him, Martha," Amara informed her curtly, eyeing John through a window as she saw him briskly walking away from firing range. "But don't bite off more than you can chew."

Martha almost scoffed as she pulled Amara back, "What?"

"Don't go looking for the watch... it's safe. Timothy Latimer has it, and it's safe with him because they will never expect it to be with him, in his hands."

Relenting, Martha visibly relaxed before she affirmed her understanding with a nod, "All right," she sighed, watching as John disappeared from sight, "Keep an eye on him, reel him in 'Mara."

Amara nodded with a grimace before steeling forwards to go and fetch her coat. She wasn't cut out for covert work.

* * *

She'd let John escape her line of vision and she was silently worrying, though she felt like pulling her hair out.

Following him into the village, so blindly, to make sure she didn't lose sight of him, Amara cursed herself for having allowed her judgement to become so clouded by John Smith without giving it much thought in the first place.

She had grown _too_ soft.

She'd always valued herself as being headstrong and persistent but John Smith seemed to be causing her some internal hassle, seemed to make her life much more difficult... it was dreadful. On Gallifrey, she'd been hardened by her mother and had perfect composure... she had been strong. But now, she felt compromised and soft.

It made her feel weak, and uneasy, two things she hated feeling and all because of a history teacher who didn't _really_ exist either.

Amara sighed in frustration as she strolled along the rows of shops, losing herself in thought. The telepathic field felt weird without the Doctor's usual brainwaves present within her mind, and it didn't settle well with her and-

"Ah, Miss Lambert."

Glancing up, evidently startled, Amara only just managed a smile when she saw the barman from the pub approaching her with a warm smile, amusement playing upon his lips. "Mister Thomas..." she greeted with a curt nod, allowing the man to fall into a steady pace beside her.

The barman, a portly chap, beamed as he chuckled, "Did you find your meteorite?" he practically boomed at her, reminding her somewhat of Vernon Dursley from ' _Harry Potter_ ' which made her smile as his round belly vibrated with laughter.

Amara sighed softly, scratching the back of her neck in thought, "I did not, I fear I made a terrible fool of myself."

"No harm done, eh?" the barman chuckled again, clapping her on the back with a firm hand, jolting her forwards suddenly. "Y'er not the first to get excited over things flying about in the sky."

"One could only hope," she offered with a soft hum. Together, they turned down a path to beginning walking past a woman pushing a pram, "I just... don't you ever hope for something more than the life you lead?"

Mister Thomas frowned in thought, "Can't say I have..."

"Ah, I'm terribly guilty in that respect," Amara laughed to herself as they continued to pass the rows of shops, falling into easy conversation.

Turning the corner, she only just made out a group of men before them as they struggled to maintain the grip of their hold upon a... piano? She tried to look at it through her peripheral vision but Mister Thomas was insistent she kept her attention on him instead.

"Of deeds!" she heard someone exclaimed from afar.

Sensing something was wrong, Amara grabbed the barman's arm as a churn of milk fell in front of her, causing them both to stumble back in surprise, falling back. Amara met the ground as the men struggling with the rope that was holding the piano crashed the ground horrendously a few feet from them. Surprised, Amara's brow twitched when she saw a cricket ball rolling along the ground as Mister Thomas moved to help her off of the ground, two men rushing over to apologise profusely.

Amara smiled, "It's fine, don't worry..." she brushed herself down simply, trying to ignore all the fuss, "No harm done, see?" without another word, she reached down to grab the cricket ball with an amused look.

"Excuse me! Out of the way!" a voice demanded as she looked over the barman's shoulder to see John rushing past the crowds to reach her, apparently frantic, "Goodness... are you all right?"

Finding herself not at all surprised, Amara smiled and handed the ball to him, "I assume this belongs to you..." he stared at it as she saw a smile appear, "As does all this mess, no?"

"No!" John blurted, his eyes wide with fright until realisation flooded through them. "Well yes... but I didn't mean- I was... I was attempting to- "

Amara smiled at him, "Thank you."

"Uh, well..." John stumbled over his words as a flush decorated his cheeks in an instant, "It was a lucky shot, nothing more."

"Well, it was a very good shot."

Something in his heart fluttered at the sight of her smile, spurring him to move to take her hand in his own, "I was wondering..." John licked his lips nervously, smiling slightly, "Might I invite you to the village dance this evening, Amara?" he blurted suddenly, hope rising within his eyes. "I would very much like to take you."

Amara's eyes grinned in amusement as his nervousness but she hadn't expected him to do something like that, "I wasn't even aware that there was a dance- "

John's face dropped instantly, "Oh right, well... that's fine. I, well- "

"But I would very much like to go, John," she interjected softly, earning a grin from the man.

Spinning around, he grinned back at Nurse Redfern excitedly as the other woman smiled back, "I'll escort you back to the school," he told Amara before clearing his throat, "Are you coming, Joan?"

"Oh no," Joan shook her head, "I have to pop to the Post Office, I'll be all right. These errands won't do themselves, will they?" she laughed, jogging away slightly, "I shall see you both at the dance this evening!"

Beaming, John was quite smug with himself as he led Amara back to the school, finding his nervousness having settled some once she'd agreed to go to the dance with him. He'd been wanting to ask her for little over a week but hadn't managed to find the courage.

He feared she'd say no.

Passing several fields with tattered scarecrows as sentries, Amara turned to him in thought. "So, does this Doctor of yours possess any skills with a cricket ball? Or is that solely you?" she smiled expectantly.

"Well, I discovered a talent, that's certainly true!" John chuckled softly.

Amara smiled, "But the Doctor definitely has an eye for the ladies..." she teased him with a smirk, watching the usual flustered Doctorisms return to the human John Smith.

"The devil!"

"And a girl at every fireplace?" Amara added with a wiggle of her brows, wanting to know how much he might remember from when he was the Doctor... she doubted he'd forget about Madame de Pompadour.

"Now, there I have to protest, Amara," he laughed aloud, "That's hardly me!"

Amara nodded in her own amusement, "Says the man who aims to dance tonight," she commented as he stopped walking to gape at a scarecrow hanging rather oddly in the field.

"That scarecrow's all skewed," John remarked before crossing the furrows, utterly forgetting that he was pulling Amara along by the hand until he profusely began apologising before moving to straighten the stuffed figure on his frame.

"Ever the artist I see," she smiled, tilting her head at him curiously, "So, Van Gogh, where did you learn to draw?"

"Gallifrey."

Amara blinked at the name of her home planet. Apparently, he could still recall someone his past as the Doctor which was hopeful. "Is that in... Ireland?" she frowned, hesitating as she asked him. She hoped he'd remember.

John nodded, "Yes," he spoke after a long moment, hesitant as if he was unsure himself, "It must be, yes."

"But you're not Irish?" Amara questioned, wanting to see how far she could push him without being too obvious... she hoped if there was enough recognition, the watch could be opened if they ever needed to.

"Not at all, no," he shrugged. She frowned, she could tell he was about to go into the mind frame of the story downloaded into his brain, "My father Sidney was a watchmaker from Nottingham and my mother Verity was a… teacher, actually."

Amara arched a brow at that, "A teacher?" she couldn't help but find that to be _slightly_ odd to say the least. "Really?"

"Women are such good teachers," John shrugged with another smile, "You're a hit at the school, so it must be true."

"I wouldn't say that," Amara smiled softly, "I should imagine Rocastle would be first to argue after my behaviour yesterday."

John paused, eyeing her carefully as he abandoned his work for the moment. "What do you mean?"

"You ruffled my feathers, and well..." she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. It was always risky because she was too headstrong, and couldn't necessarily control her tongue. "The boys are ones for gossip, and Rocastle can't have his teachers rowing in the corridors because it lowers the school's prestige. We don't want that do we?"

John's brow furrowed incredulously, "Was he rude to you?" he demanded.

No," she sent him a sly smile, squeezing his arm at his sudden protectiveness. "In truth, I did always think I'd be better off fixing things, I've always had a knack for that... sort of a guilty pleasure."

John glanced over at the scarecrow, "And you didn't think to aid me in my attempts to right this fellow?"

Amara laughed and linked her arm through his to lead him away, "I... erm..." she cleared her throat and stifled her pride, choosing that it was probably better for to just get it out of the way. "I owe you an apology."

John choked on air.

"And I owe you tea seeing as I so rudely blew off your plans."

"Blew off?" John repeated softly before falling into an open-mouthed silence as he allowed her to lead him along wordlessly, stunted for words.

"Do you fancy a cup of tea?" she asked hopefully, releasing the long breath she'd been holding as John gaped at her, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, I would love one."

* * *

Due to his insistent behaviour, John ended up measuring out the milk and sugar for them after ushering her into a chair.

She found a fond smile tugging at her lips when she realised that John Smith, was in that very moment, recalling how she liked her tea from the Doctor's memories, even the sugar. It was rather endearing to know that the Doctor was _definitely_ still in there.

"White and two," he called quietly before passing her the cup and saucer carefully.

Amara took it from him, murmuring a "thank you" as she rested it on her lap to cool, watching as John retrieved his own chair. "I'm sorry for shouting at you yesterday," she said finally, breaking the silence that had fell. "Especially in front of the boys... I know you don't approve of the duty and I didn't mean to jeopardise your reputation here either."

John's gaze fell to his own tea while he nodded before he then said something that almost made Amara's cup fall from her hands. "I apologise too."

Amara blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. "Pardon?"

Drawing in a deep breath, John sighed to himself before he set his tea down. "I apologise for having not told you about my military duties here... I feared it would upset you, so I couldn't tell you which, of course, I should have and I won't be making a decision like that again; I lied to you, Amara and I apologise for that."

She continued to stare at him, "... right."

John Smith was absolutely _nothing_ like the Doctor. The Doctor had far too much pride to apologise for something he'd done to upset her. He'd use the TARDIS to worm his way out of it, and in the end, she'd stop being sour over it.

John cleared his throat, "Do you..." he paused hesitantly, gulping in what she thought was fear. "Do you accept my apology?"

"Of course I do," Amara told him firmly, thankful that he looked relieved at her before she added, "Can I ask you something though?" John looked worried but nodded anyway which encouraged her to push on. "This military duty of yours..." she started, trying to find her words. "Is it necessary? Is it compulsory that you do it?"

John frowned slightly, "Yes... why-"

"For students _and_ teachers both?" Amara interjected smoothly as John's mouth opened and closed as he hurriedly drunk from his tea, recoiling when it scalded his mouth. "John?"

"It isn't my place to question my duties," John managed, his voice slightly hoarse from where the drink had burned his throat, "Not unless I want to lose my job here."

Technically, he can't help his contract. "What's your opinion of it though? Teaching children how to use guns?" she pressed, not willing to give up.

"Well..." John swallowed thickly as she looked away from her for a moment, "It doesn't matter what my opinion is, Amara."

"It does to _me_."

Conflicted, John glanced away from her again, stumbling over his words and he tried to formulate a coherent reply, muttering to himself until Amara, doing something completely unorthodox, reached over to place her hand over his, her touch making him freeze immediately.

"Right... I, erm... I don't believe that teaching the boys how to right for survival should be the most integral part of their schooling when there are others ways we could install discipline, then again, I understand why it is an essential part of the curriculum. And if the matter of warfare should ever arise within this country, then the skills the boys have learned can help them survive... and if they live, then it shouldn't matter." He paused, turning his hand over so he could entwine his fingers with Amara's as she smiled at him, "I believe I'm a sensible man, but there is sense in teaching the boys how to survive even if I'm not content with the study of warfare myself."

Amara merely stared him, slightly taken aback by his outburst but pleased all the same.

"I know it's expected of us," John sighed, "But I hate employing the use of the cane on the boys." He let out another dramatic breath before his eyes widened once he'd realised what he'd said to her, panic seeping across his face. "Goodness," he sighed, looking to Amara in an instant. "You mustn't tell anyone what I just said..."

Despite his panic, Amara couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Amara?" John asked, concerned as he started to plead with her, "Please..."

"John, you're being silly," Amara sent him a levelled look, shaking her head as her laughter died, patting their entwined hands with her free one. "As if I would do such a thing."

"You aren't still cross with me, are you?"

Amara sighed in defeat, "How could I stay mad at someone who doesn't like what it required of them? You make it difficult to stay angry, anyway..."

At her words, John lent forward. "Can I make it up to you?"

"John, don't be ridiculous," she sighed when he continued to look at her earnestly, "Fine... but I think you inviting me to this dance serves appropriately."

"Excellent!" John announced jubilantly as he beamed her, smiling widely like a fool, his excitement evident in every feature upon his face.

Amara smiled back at him before she reached to sip at her tea. "So, I was wondering," she finally said, coquettishly, over the rim of her cup. "Is something wrong with Timothy Latimer?"

John grew quiet again at the topic change, frowning slightly. "I don't think Latimer is feeling quite himself," he told her honestly, sighing softly. "He was acting rather oddly yesterday when he came to get a book from me, and during the drills he seemed a little off..."

"I think I'll have another word with him," Amara spoke, worried for the boy who held the Doctor's life in his hands, "He just needs a little shove in the right direction."

"And that is why you're a hit," John retorted with a smirk, "Rocastle's shoddy remarks can't do anything."

"Don't you wish it were different sometimes?" she asked suddenly, frowning in thought as she reclined in her chair.

John arched a brow, "Like... in my dreams?"

"I suppose, yes," Amara chuckled.

Considering it for a moment, John nodded in thought. "It would be rather interesting to be an otherworldly hero with a magic blue box."

"Wouldn't it just?"

* * *

He was driving her insane, her constant spluttering over their petty argument. John Smith was getting on her nerves for worrying himself over the fear for having permanently upset her.

"Stop apologising," she sighed, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in annoyance, "You'll drive me mad if you keep on like this."

Well, it turned out John Smith couldn't stop apologising. It didn't matter how many times she told him that everything was all right, he still persisted to do so.

"You were right, though," John would argue, feathers ruffled by her earlier comments, "I don't agree with it _at all_..."

And on it went.

John had moved to snatch up a bundle of papers, humming happily to himself as he danced into the desk, spreading out his notes dramatically before sliding into a chair.

She could hear him babbling on about several things, his mouth running away with him as he talked and talked, evidently content with telling her how well his classes had gone for that day.

But all she could think about was how close the Family were to them, how unnerved that made her feel... she didn't-

Amara paused when she realised he'd gone silent, his voice having died as she turned to see him look her from where he was sat at the table, his eyes transfixed. "I forgot to tell you... your hair looks lovely," he commented as a flush crept onto his cheeks.

 _Damn, John Smith!_ Amara blinked at him for a couple of second as he rose from his seat to lead her to sit with him at the table.

"It's beautiful... you're beautiful," he smiled softly as she rolled her eyes, "I'm telling the truth... how about you keep me company? I can use your brilliant mind to help me grade these papers of mine."

"I have papers of my own to grade, John," Amara reasoned until she saw the look he was giving her, and she sighed, rolling her eyes before relenting. She was becoming quite good at that. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

John grinned before pushing a neat stack of papers towards her, turning his attention to his own pile with a sudden look of determination, continuing with his babbling from before.

Looking down at the first page, Amara sighed at the scrawl as she picked up a pen to begin the task at hand, knowing she had little choice.

It was all right for him; he could fully embrace his life as John Smith but she couldn't get attached to the idea that seemed to be growing right before her eyes...

From opposite her she could see him grinning madly, chatting on and on about the boys and how they were brilliant, bright and possessed such a good minds... at least his grin was genuine enough, and he seemed happy. He was grinning out of honest enjoyment.

She rolled her yes. _Oh yes..._ he could bloody well enjoy himself while herself and Martha chased after him blindly to make sure he didn't do anything stupid which was very Doctor-like. As she sat watching him, she observed him as John Smith, an ordinary man... could she really take that away?

"Amara?" he asked quietly.

She blinked, refocusing her gaze upon him. "Hmm?"

John sent her a crooked smile, "Why are you looking at me in that way?" he smiled at her, his eyes warm and softly as Amara tried to think of an excuse to explain her.

Amara smiled as she turned her attention back to the paper in front of her, "You look happy, that's all," it was necessarily a lie, she could blag it if need be. But he did look happy, that she couldn't deny.

John's smile widened at her words, spurring him to reach over the table to grasp her hands to her surprise, "Well, I am happy... I've finally got an occupation where I believe I am making a true difference," his hands tightened around hers and she saw his eyes grow serious, "I could be happier still."

Amara sighed and smiled back because the only thing she could bring herself to do, "Really?"

To her surprise, John stood and reached over to pull her into a fierce embrace, radiating contentment as she allowed herself to close her eyes and hug him back.

Why did John Smith insist on doing all this to her?

Pulling away after a while when she found herself feeling awkward, Amara patted his shoulder before she properly moved away from him to return to grading the papers. Biting her lip, she tilted her head and tried to distract herself by reading the cursive scrawl in front of her, tucking her hair behind her ear as she hummed to herself.

But when she happened to glance up, Amara found his interest firmly upon her, his hand busily moving over the paper before him.

In all honesty, she was really starting to like the sweet, daft man sat before her and his bumbling. As she continued to watch his hand move across the paper, she found herself smiling when she realised it was his journal.

Sighing softly, he looked up at her with a sudden wide smile which she reciprocate before glancing away again. "Oh..." he hummed as she shifted under his gaze.

"What?" Her eyes narrowed as Amara eyed John carefully, "What are you _looking_ at me like that for?" she questioned before smiling, "Is there something on my face?"

"What?" John blinked, confused. "No, no... can you just stay... _very_ still for me?" he asked, fumbling around for a moment as he moved to grasp his pencil again. "I'm sketching you."

"What?" Amara could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she moved to readjust herself self-consciously, "Why would you want to do that for?"

"No, don't! Don't move!" he exclaimed as she tried not to laugh before settling back into the same position again, "Can you... would you mind tilting your head to the right, just like – like that! Hold it!"

Amara smirked and did as she was told, "You didn't answer me, John... why are you sketching me?"

"Because I want to remember you like this."

Amara paused at that, swallowing thickly at the answer he'd provided her with... finding herself suddenly uneasy by what he'd told her, something so normal... _so_ human.

As it turned out, John sketched slowly, so very slowly while his warm eyes focused beneath his boisterous hair that still reminded her of a porcupine. She watched his out of the corner of her eyes as he continued to scrutinise the drawing against her for a while before moving to start shading in the details, concentrating on getting the lines right.

When he'd finished, she saw him blow off the excess graphite from the page before rising to his feet.

"Can I have a look?" Amara asked quietly. While she had seen him draw before, she had _never_ been the subject of his work and to watch him handle the sketch with such care was humbling to say the least.

"Of course!" John proclaimed as he came to sit beside her, settling the journal into her lap with a wide smile.

John Smith _could_ draw. He had somehow managed to catch her likeness so that it was remarkable. The composition of her face even in black and white with the shades of grey was slightly unnerving to see such a striking resemblance.

The way he'd captured the curve of her chin and her eyes with the soft tendrils of hair framing her face left her in awe.

"Oh," she breathed softly.

Still intrigued against her will, she studied the sketch. He was skilled, and she knew that there was nothing the Doctor didn't truly excel at... The way he'd captured her with gaze downcast, light streaming in behind her.

"Oh," Amara murmured again, "I don't really look like that, do I?" she was still a bit startled by the picture on the page before her and to make things worse, she became aware of his hands that had settled on her neck, tracing circles softly as she continued to stare at the page. _Curse his warm hands..._

Slowly his hands moved, migrating from her hair to her shoulders, long fingers curving along her collarbone. "Oh, most definitely," his hand danced through her hair, brushing some strands of hair back from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek.

Amara felt something in her stomach clench dangerously, panic seeping through her at his movements. "You've made me far too beautiful," she shook her head, swallowing. She couldn't let him do what she feared he would.

He smiled at her softly, "Well, that's how I see you..."

She looked up at him, "Are you trying to woo me?" Amara teased with a slight smile.

"I, uh, I might be, though I fear I'm failing," John said, his voice deep as he brushed some more hair away from her face. "Do you like it?" he asked gently and Amara bit her lip as she stared at him.

She'd never seen him look so hopeful, so desperate for her approval... and she was found it rather sweet. Amara smiled at him and nodded, "I do, I like it very much..." she admitted honestly and John beamed at her, utterly pleased.

"Oh, I'm so glad," he said quietly, touching her cheek again, a proper caress as Amara lent into his palm and after a moment (the screaming in her head turning to internal pounding of the skull), John took advantage of her response to lean in and gently press his lips to hers.

Amara felt her pulse quicken slightly at the touch of his lips, his mouth moving against hers in a whisper of a kiss.

She exhaled into his slightly open mouth and at the mere touch of her breath, John pulled back slightly. She could see his eyelashes fluttering against his skin for a split second before he opened his eyes to gaze at her properly.

"I've never, um..." he found himself at a loss for words when he pulled away, watching her for a couple of seconds.

She knew she should push him away, run out of the room and leave him there but she knew that if she did that her two hearts would break, knowing that at the end of it all, John Smith would never find solace.

He'd open the watch and the Doctor's consciousness would return. He'd learn the truth about himself and be devastated; he'd hate her and Martha for having lied to him, for having kept him in the dark.

Her lips trembled slightly, and she wanted so desperately to say something but she had no idea what... and no words came and she knew there was little point. To hell with it. She let allowed him to lean in, less hesitant, and kiss her again.

 _To hell with it_

And she let him. She bloody let him do the one thing she swore to herself she'd prevent.

Maybe it was the gentleness in his touch, the warmth of his lips... or maybe it was the stories he'd been sharing with her, and how comfortable she'd grown with him as John Smith.

But in those few moments, she didn't think.

She let him kiss her, and she let herself kiss him back and then become so caught up in kissing him that she didn't even realise his hand had moved from her cheek. When his lips grew firmer, his thigh pressing against hers, she drew back.

"John..." she stopped when she saw the softened expression, the yearning in his gaze that made her words die in her throat. She stared at him, lips swollen and wet while his eyes shone darkly, hooded.

And before she could even contemplate to stop herself, Amara found herself kissing John Smith.

She damned herself for the weakness, knowing that it would be her fault for him dying, to watch the man before her give up his life... she damned herself for having initiated the action to encourage him, to make it all the more difficult. Much more difficult than it already was.

She felt his hand slip back into her hair, his long fingers caressing the short strands as she found herself, unconsciously, leaning into his touch while a finger brushed against the skin beneath her jaw.

John pulled away slowly, his hand lingering upon the curve of her neck as she stared up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, watching him closely.

"Uh, we..." she tried to formulate coherent speech to try and remove herself from his clutches, trying to make a run before he could trap her again but he grabbed her back, his grip tightening immediately around her to pull her flush against him. "John..." she whispered but then stopped abruptly as he kissed her again.

The intensity was radiating off of him in waves, a slow possessive burn that was leaving her breathless as he pressed her against the chair, kissing her soundly.

"John..." she murmured against his lips, finding herself not wanting to stop but knowing that they couldn't carry on before it got out of control. John, however was oblivious, hummed contently against her lips before lowering his head to cover her jaw with small kisses.

Just as he was about to deepen the kiss, the door flew open as Martha strode in.

"Martha, what have I told you about entering unannounced?" he demanded, pulling away from Amara immediately, flustered.

Martha's eyes widened when she realised what was going on, staring at them both in shock before rushing out of the room again, shutting the door behind her to then lean against the door in shock.

Inside his room, Amara clambered to her feet and ran a distressed hand through her hair as she tried to regain her bearings.

"I apologise for her, Amara," John sighed, also standing up so he could move towards her, reaching out to take her hand but she pulled away from him.

"No," Amara shook her head, "I'm sorry, John, but... I _can't_."

He looked like the Doctor, he was the Doctor... but it wasn't the Doctor as far as Amara was concerned, and kissing the Doctor was one thing but as soon as his hands started to wander again, she started to panic all over again.

He wasn't forceful but she didn't like the way his hands felt, didn't like the way her body seemed to respond to them. It frightened her. John didn't have the same control the Doctor over _those_ impulses; he was human and male.

His body language, his actions... it all unnerved her because she was fairly certain, from what she could remember, that it indicated he wanted her.

Rushing out of the door, Amara shut it behind her to see Martha leaning against the opposite wall with wide eyes. "This is bad," Amara implored as she ran her hands over her face. "Did he leave any instructions about this?"

"About what?" Martha frowned, trying not to laugh, "About facial suction?"

"Martha!" Amara almost cried, sinking to her knees.

"No," Martha shook her head, only just managing to hold her laughter back. "I'm not too sure... we could always go and check?"

* * *

There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could possibly in aid in dealing with a lovesick John Smith. The video was useless in that regard; absolutely nothing on how to handle John Smith supposedly "falling" in love with Amara.

Better Amara than some random human. But still difficult to say the least.

" _Four, the both of you_ ," the Doctor's voice drifted through the TARDIS as the video played, " _Don't let me abandon either of you._ "

"Bloody idiot," Amara hissed in defeat, sinking to her knees as she pressed her head against the side of the console, sighing dramatically. "Of course he didn't consider women, didn't even think about women. Didn't even think!" she banged her head against it and tried to think of a solution to handle the predicament she was in.

Martha sighed, "We can handle it."

Despite Martha trying to reason with her, Amara groaned in annoyance as she threw her head back, fast forwarding to the end of the video. "What the hell am I supposed to do Martha?" she wasn't cut out for this type of romance, if she could even call it that, and it was useless.

Martha scoffed, turning to lean against the console as she crossed her arms. "It's not my fault John Smith is a womanizer, is it?" she, for one, thought Amara was overreacting and making the issue seem more serious than it _actually_ was.

She found it quite amusing to seem someone like Amara, some so calm and collected, freak out over something as innocent as kissing.

" _'Womanizer, woman-womanizer... you're a-_ not a good time for Britney," she tapped the side of her head wickedly, brow furrowed in frustration as she stared at his face on the monitor screen, "This is ridiculous, and it's _all_ your fault!"

" _Thank you_ ," the Doctor concluded brightly, Amara pausing the video on his smiling face. _God,_ she wanted to punch it.

"Shouting at the screen it's going to help, y'know," Martha pointed out with a laugh, earning her a glare from Amara, "I don't know what you want me to say."

Amara rolled her eyes in outrage, clutching the console in her hysteria. "I'm screwed... look at my lips! They're all swollen and- " she gestured to the part of her face with flapping hands, her eyes wide as she stared at an amused Martha.

"What was it like?" Martha ventured with a smirk.

Amara groaned as though she'd been punched. "Martha!"

"You're not _even_ going to tell me? Come on, that's not fair," Martha brushed her off with an eye roll, pushing off of the console to walk around the room, "It was only kissing." Martha didn't think it was _that_ , there was worse things that could have happened and yet, Amara was _really_ freaking out like she was about to have a breakdown.

She'd never seen her so flustered over something, and without the Doctor there to help, she didn't really know what to do and that worried her even more.

"Only kissing?!" Amara echoed loudly, her eyes wide with accusation as she turned on Martha, "It couldn't be any worse, could it really?"

Martha sighed, "You're overreacting."

Amara scrunched up her face in worry, "No, I'm not," she shook her head profusely, tapping her temple as thought. She slowly walked up to the console, set her fingertips on the controls. "I'm sorry," she muttered under her breath, not knowing what to do.

Martha watched her, intrigued with how she was reacting. _Is it really that bad?_ She didn't see what was wrong with it – John Smith wasn't the Doctor, and the Doctor was John Smith. Or was it because John Smith was part of the Doctor that Amara didn't feel comfortable with crossing those boundaries?

Or was it because of Rose? That made more sense than anything, and she could understand that.

"Is this because of Rose?"

"What?" Amara frowned for a moment before shaking her head and then pausing again. "I hadn't thought of that... oh, now I feel _even_ worse! I've crossed every boundary, every line..."

Martha cringed as she pinched the bridge of her nose in her own irritation, "It'll be fine, it was John's fault – you said he persisted, didn't you?"

"He'll remember everything, Martha!" Amara exclaimed in a fully moment of panic, her mind reeling. "When he changes backs, the Doctor will see everything and I won't be able to look him in the eye _again_ after doing that with him. It's wrong, _so_ wrong... wrong, wrong, _wrong_."

Rushing forward, Martha grabbed her friend by the arm and forced her to look at her, holding her firm as she made her contact with her. "You _need_ to calm down. Look at me. _Calm_ _down_ ," she squeezed her arm, sighing softly. It had to be partly about Rose.

Amara sucked in a sharp when the guilt hit. She felt awful for letting him kiss, for kissing him back... she should have resisted, upheld her composure and stuck to her guns. She wanted the floor to swallow her whole. "I don't want to take away what he had with Rose. That's not fair, I don't want that..." she trailed off, closing her eyes in her guilt.

Martha winced, rubbing her shoulder in comfort. "I never said you did."

"God, I've messed up haven't I?" Amara wheezed in defeat, resigning herself to the fact that there was little no escape. "This is _so_ bad. Oh, Martha! It's his fault, John Smith and his needs, his bloody wandering hands. And they _wandered_!"

Martha sighed, blinking as she tried to reason with herself internally to calm the raging Gallifreyan before her, "'Mara, you need to calm down. It's really not _that_ bad."

" _Not that bad?_ You're joking!" Amara burst into laughter before stopping abruptly, her gaze narrowing in sudden thought, "No, you're right... it's awful. Martha, you don't get it do you? I tried _so_ hard not to let him get to me, to try and not be affected, I _really_ did," it had been so hard to dodge John Smith all the time without getting caught in the crossfire. "But it's so exhausting and before I knew it he was kissing me and I was kissing him."

"Perhaps it's because you're the same species, and it's subconsciously pulling you together," Martha suggested gently, hoping that would settle Amara somewhat, reason with her erratic behaviour. "You could only fight it for so long before you gave in."

"I hadn't considered that."

Martha frowned, "So, that could be the reason?"

"I don't think so," Amara sighed in thought, frowning deeply. "I let him. Oh god, I _let_ him."

Losing all her patience, Martha finally blew her lid. "'Mara, please just shut up about it!" she proclaimed with a low groan, "You need to get over this; the Family is here which means he's no longer safe! You need to pull yourself together."

It was odd for her to be the only sane one, the only one trying to figure out how to move on with the plan. Amara was usually so level-headed, and it was disheartening to see her so fragile and erratic... to see her so furiously maddened over something _so_ small.

"I'm fine."

Martha's eyes narrowed, "You know you're a bad liar."

"Oh really?" Amara suddenly grinned, "I fooled you for long enough."

"Tell me, what is so bad about this?" Martha prompted, wanting to get a proper answer out of her, one she knew was the true one, one she knew that would make sense. "Why do you feel so guilty about letting John Smith kiss you?"

Amara bit the inside of her cheek before hanging her head, "Because I liked it," she glanced away from Martha, ashamed. "I shouldn't have but I did... I've been void of emotion, of feelings anything... of wanting to feel in that way, and now that I have, I don't want it because I know I _can't_ have it."

Martha blinked. She felt guilty because she had wanted him to kiss her, because she had wanted to feel something... because she'd had no one for so many years, and suddenly it was all her fault for being what Martha would call human.

And if she knew the Doctor, she doubted he'd be angry with her.

"Where do I go from here?"

"You go to that dance," Martha tugged on her arm, "That's where you're going."

* * *

Amara had abandoned Martha when her eyes had zeroed in on Timothy Latimer sat hunched on a bench, fiddling with the fob-watch, and she found herself approaching him, enticed by the boy's behaviour as he sat with the Doctor's consciousness quite literally in the palm of his hand.

As she approached the bench, she could hear the watch whispering to him from where he was sat: " _The darkness is coming...keep me away from the force and empty man...the last of the Time Lords, the last of a wise and ancient race..._ "

Glancing side wards, Timothy sucked in a sharp breath when he saw Baines approached a portly man, Mister Clarke before a small girl holding a red balloon skipped over to join them. A moment later, they all glanced over and tilted their heads to the side, inhaling deeply.

"Keep the old chap hidden until they've gone, Tim," a voice called to him, making his head snap around to see Miss Lambert leaning against the wall with a soft frown, looking at the floor so that the small group couldn't see her.

They remained staring for another moment before their heads titled again and they walked off.

"Who are they?" he asked, turning to glance at her properly, knowing she knew what was going on and that she was hiding something from them all.

Amara settled onto the bench beside Timothy, "Doesn't matter."

"What do you mean?"

She smiled sadly, "It's not them anymore... whoever they were, they're gone," she told him softly, seeing no point in lying to the boy. Timothy picked up the watch, turning it over in his hand before she smiled again, "So, that's where the old chap ran off to."

Timothy eyed her curiously, "You know who's trapped inside the watch?"

"Very well," Amara nodded gently, "The Doctor... the Last of the Time Lords from the planet Gallifrey."

"The Doctor," Tim thought for a moment as he continued to eye her, "That's his name... how do you know about him if he's trapped in the watch?"

Amara sighed as she reclined in the bench, "Are you frightened of him, Tim?" she questioned, watching as his eyes searched for something before eventually nodding, hanging his head. "You'd be a fool not to be."

"You're not afraid."

Amara looked to Tim, reaching for the watch, "Can I?" she watched as he opened his palm for her to take it from him but all she did was cover his hand with her own, pressing the watch between their hands.

Instantly, images of ice skating of Koorharn flooded through Tim's mind with several others of the Doctor running along with two women chasing after him. Then he saw the same three, the Doctor on the floor, sat watching something on a rather large protector screen before images of smiling and laughter greeted him.

Tim sucked in a sharp breath at how human the Doctor seemed, how different he was... so different from the man he feared, so kind...

Pulling her hand away, Amara crossed her arms over her chest with a sigh, "Now, it isn't always like that guaranteed... but he is a good man, Tim."

"But..." Tim's brows knitted together in confusion as he continued to watch her, seeing her smile at the watch in his palm.

" _… 'Mara… give us to her, let her keep us…_ " the watch whispered to him and he immediately offered the watch to her but Amara shook her head, refusing to take it. " _... keep her safe, must shield her, protect her... not alone... saviour... alive... the Family must not..._ "

Tim glanced at the watch again, silence bewitching him until he realised what the watch's reaction meant, "You're like him..." a slow smile stretched across his lips, "You're one of them."

Amara arched a singular brow, "So I've been told..."

"Then this belongs to you," Tim tried to hand her the watch again but Amara outright refused, shaking her head profusely and withdrawing her hands from his reach.

"You can't give it to me."

"Why not?" Tim frowned at her, not understanding why she was so reluctant, "It wants you to hold it, it wants you."

As much as she wanted to take it, Amara shook her head. "In my hands, he can be found and that puts him in danger... I've got to keep him safe, and that means I mustn't have that watch," she told him, clenching her jaw. "I might as well sign his death sentence if I have it, so I'm going to need you to hold onto it for a bit longer, if you don't mind."

Tim eyed her, "You _want_ me to keep it?"

"All you have to do is keep him safe," Amara rose to her feet as she cast her eyes around the secluded area, "Just until the time is right, and then I'll handle the rest... do you think you can manage that, Tim? Can you promise me that you'll keep him safe?"

Tim glanced at the watch in the palm of him for a moment before looking back at her, sending her a firm nod before slipping it safely into his pocket.

"Make sure my Casanova doesn't cause any trouble, Tim."

Once Amara had returned to Martha, she was immediately greeted with the presence of a verdant dress swinging in Martha's hands, a wide grin plastered across her face.

It worried her how eager Martha seemed to sign her sentence, to hand her over to John Smith to confirm her fate as his would-be muse.

Martha had struggled to understand why John Smith falling in love with her been so wrong, why it was such a bad idea... if he had become besotted with someone like Nurse Redfern, it would have been far more difficult.

When Amara had explained how she felt when John had kissed her, Martha hadn't entirely expected such a confession from her friend, one of shame for having let him do it.

She admired her for her restraint, for how she persevered to be good, to retain her composure – she had been envious of Amara's control, of how she handled herself and to have witnessed her in such a state left her unnerved.

Amara had explained that John's eagerness was down to the Doctor's consciousness within the watch being aware of her presence as a Time Lady... his consciousness was being pulled to her as a normal reaction, clinging to the pieces of Gallifrey that remained.

She didn't quite believe that Amara wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with the Doctor. Who would ever pass that up anyway? She wouldn't.

And yet Amara didn't, but she was sure that the woman didn't even know what she wanted.

Martha knew her friend feared that anything of the sort would damage his feelings for Rose, and because she knew how important she'd been, that was the last thing she wanted. She also didn't want to come between them, to be a choice between herself or Rose.

Amara didn't want to ruin any hope for the Doctor if Rose was to return.

She didn't want to destroy the Doctor's feelings for Rose when he wasn't ready to move on. And Amara wasn't even sure he'd ever be able to with how sensitive the subject seemed to be... but she feared anything romantic. Not after Gallifrey. She wasn't sure she could cope with it.

Martha knew how daunting it must be for her; to risk developing feelings for the Doctor to help keep him safe... she honestly believed the Doctor liked Amara, liked her enough for John Smith to be attracted to her in a romantic way.

But Amara was being awkward.

She didn't see her as the type of person to be so skittish about something so simple. So pure. She knew of her panic at having no idea to overcome the growing issue, of how to avoid the predicament as it escalated.

But she understood why Amara was scared.

Martha didn't care though - for as long as she was with the Doctor, travelling through all of time and space, she wouldn't give up on trying to get them together. They were meant for one another - the last two of their species, they were meant to be together.

Amara sighed, nodding and managing a brief smile at her. Martha returned the smile, masking the concern for her friend. "We best get you ready..."

"I'm sorry," she blurted aloud, swallowing thickly as she held Martha's gaze firmly. "Um," she clasped her fingers together in deep thought as Martha frowned at her, "This mess... it's going to get so much worse and the Doctor - John can't understand- " it felt oddly humiliating that she couldn't even bring herself to say it out loud to Martha, her friend.

"'Mara, it's fine."

"I tried to so hard not be affected, I really did..." Amara blanched, squeezing her eyes shuts as she resigned herself to the fact that she had done the one thing she promised to herself, that if she ever happened to meet the Doctor, she would _never_ do. Cling to him as he was her last chance at keeping Gallifrey alive in her mind. "I kissed him because he kissed me... I let him because I liked it. Because I was selfish and no one has looked at me like that in _years_ and it was nice, so nice for someone to look at me in that way."

Martha smiled softly, "I get it, you don't have to explain- "

"That doesn't mean it was right."

"I never asked," Martha paused in thought, "Did you have a family on Gallifrey? A husband... any children?"

At her words, Amara found herself smiling sadly. "Oh, Martha..." she trailed off in thought of her previous life when she had been content, had been complete... with little worry... when living was safe. "Family is God's greatest masterpiece, and I wish I could say I was graced with that..."

* * *

John was rushing around his room furiously, which looked as though a tornado a had blistered through with the fresh mess lying around, clothes strewn everywhere, papers and books lying in every direction. He was currently stood in front of a mirror, holding up two ties indecisively, frowning in annoyance.

Frowning again, he chucked the navy one away to begin tying the black one around his neck before turning away to shrug on his jack just as a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in!" John called out, not bothering to look to see who was at the door as he fussed. He heard the door open as he managed to weave his tie correctly, but not managing to do it up. "I'm so terribly sorry for the mess, Martha... I simply must speak to Amara..."

He wheeled around as his words died in his throat, his hands falling from his neck as he abandoned all hope of tying his tie. It wasn't Martha who had entered his rooms, but Amara.

His eyes widened as he stared at her. She was dressed in a verdant gown that came to rest at her knees, her hair pulled back softly in a clip. She was stunning, and he couldn't quite believe it, and he found that words could barely describe her...

Slowly, she walked over to him, closing his open mouth before taking the tie from his feverish hands to continue his failing work.

"You look beautiful," John managed through a soft voice, staring at her.

"Thank you," Amara smiled at him, "You look very dashing."

John swallowed, "I, erm... I wasn't certain you would come," he scratched the back of his neck nervously, "I thought I had offended you, done something wrong before…you... I didn't…"

"Yes, about that... I'm sorry," she interjected softly, "It wasn't you... I merely panicked, and I wasn't expecting it honestly," she saw a smile appear on his face at her words when knowing he hadn't scared her, "John, can you actually dance?" she arched a brow at him teasingly.

"Um..." John frowned as he considered the question, "I'm not certain..."

Amara laughed, "There's a surprise," she smiled at his reply, finding it such a rare thing to hear, especially coming from him even though he was technically human in their circumstance.

John stepped towards her, "You said that you didn't expect it?" Amara nodded in agreement, "Then..." he moved closer still, "What if I were to give... to give you warning?" he kept moving until he was stood right in front her, leaning forwards so that his mouth was a few inches away from hers, "Would you mind if I kissed you?"

Amara didn't reply, knowing that it wasn't sensible to even answer that question.

"I'm sorry," he apologised softly, bowing his head.

She looked at him, seeing the miserable expression on his face and she broke, "John..." she spoke as he turned his face away from her with a deep frown, making her flinch at the movement. "I'm sorry."

"Don't," John erratically began rearranging papers on his desk as though his life depended on it, "Please _don't_... it isn't fair for you to apologise to me, when you must know _how_ guilty it makes me feel."

"Guilty?" Why would _he_ feel guilty?

"I never expected you to want to want me..." John admitted, abandoning the papers to bracing himself against his desk momentarily, "You're _much_ younger than me," he stared at her with an intense gaze, "I have only ever dreamed..."

Suddenly, he turned back to continue re-arranging the stacks of paper on his desk along with writing utensils and books hurriedly.

"At times I can barely keep up with you," he told her as she stood watching him, "You are so outrageous and different, and you were coy... flirty, I assumed. And you're _so_ young," John turned to look at her, a book in his hand absently, "I'm _too_ old, I get that... the old historian trying to seduce the young English teacher because- "

"Oh, stop being silly," Amara scoffed with an eye roll, "You're _not_ old."

"But I _feel_ it," John countered softly, moving towards her again, "And sometimes I feel as though you're _frightened_ of me."

"Frightened?" Amara tried not to laugh as she stared at him hopelessly, "You don't _frighten_ me John, don't be ridiculous... why on Earth would you think that?"

"Because I do," he insisted earnestly, "I terrify you for reasons I can't seem to fathom, and I fear it's that you're afraid I may love you."

Amara's hearts stilled in her chest at the words, something she'd never expected for him to _ever_ say to her. Ridiculously, she felt close to tears.

"I wanted to be affectionate, and I thought that because you enjoyed my company..." he trailed off, his voice gentle with concern, "I feared I had grown _too_ amorous for you... that you were afraid of my advances..."

John moved closer to her as he spoke, his hands settling upon her hips as she opened her mouth to speak, "I- "

"You were afraid that I wanted you," John carried on in a soft voice as she stared at him, enticed, his fingers dancing across her hips through the fabric of her dress, her mouth dry as she listened intently, "I would never have wished for you to be afraid, Amara... I would have never dreamt of hurting you..."

"Oh, I know," she agreed, trying to distract herself while he was still touching her, the sensation nearly getting the better of her that she was finding it had to focus, "But..." she sighed, trying to ignore the way his fingers were brushing against her hips, "I don't think I can do this John."

"We could be happy, couldn't we?" he asked softly, ignoring her words, "We could be happy, you and I..."

"John..." Amara started again.

"Would it be that hard?" he wondered aloud, "I just don't know what I could have done to make you so cold towards me..."

"Oh, you might as well be bloody Shakespeare!" Amara huffed in annoyance, resisting the urge to run from him, choosing to stand her ground, "I don't hate you, and neither do I blame you," she managed softly, "I just... I can't."

John was silent for a couple of seconds before he spoke again with a hollow tone, "Is it the guns again? Is that it?"

Amara, against her moral justification, considered lying but found herself shaking her head. She never liked lying at all... and she couldn't bring herself to be cruel to John when he was obviously hurting, confused by her rejection.

"That's _not_ your fault," Amara told him firmly.

"Then why?" he asked her, pushing himself up to stand in front of her properly, watching as she faced him, her softened at his expression, "Don't you want me?"

"It's not..." she shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes as they suddenly spilled over her cheeks, "I can't do this because it's not _real,_ John."

"How can you tell me what I feel for you isn't real?" he asked, looking even more upset than before as Amara the guilt in her stomach intensify like a knife being twisted in her gut, making her stomach churn at her cruelty.

"Look... I... I don't want you to regret..."

John stared at her incredulously, gaping, "How could I regret such a thing?" he set a hand upon her cheek and she leaned into his touch, "Amara," he murmured softly, staring at her, "I would never..."

"They're just words, John," Amara sighed, "Everyday I read words, I everyday I write words..." Amara murmured softly as John's thumb traced over her cheek, "I fear I'm growing sick of words in general."

At first, he didn't say anything and merely stroking away the tears. "That doesn't matter, I don't care for words..."

He leant down suddenly, tilting his head so he could press his lips to hers, their noses bumping together as Amara forgot all mind to stop him, to prevent him doing what she'd been trying to prevent, forgetting to stop him from deepening the kiss.

"Please," he said softly, breath puffing against her skin. "Please... Amara...I promise..."

Amara felt the warmth flood through her body as her heart became infected with fear, "We can't," she whispered, trying to grab his wrists, a futile attempt to stop him. John's dark eyes drank her as he gently pried her hands away from his writs. Amara swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes as she felt tears gathering. "John," she murmured, " _Please_."

"Don't be afraid," he tried to reassure her, caressing her skin with the back of one hand which only made her shiver. _Don't react, you can't react_. "I won't hurt you."

When she finally dared to meet his gaze, she found it so tender that she felt her knees trembling. _Get a grip of yourself..._ what the hell was wrong with her? Since when had she become so bloody weak at the sight of a human?

But then John kissed her again and she forgot to be disgusted with herself as she felt an unexpected movement of his tongue against her lips.

To her own stupidity, she opened her mouth which only spurred him further. Gasping, John pushed her backwards until she met the wall, smiling softly as his hand disappeared into her hair.

* * *

Sighing softly, Martha smiled to herself as she set down a pot of tea on a tray. She was quite pleased with how preparing Amara had turned out; she had managed to convince her to keep John safe, and she wanted their romance to progress.

Where was the harm in indulging John Smith a little happiness while he was still John Smith? The Doctor would get over it, wouldn't he? It was Amara she wasn't so sure about – she seemed positively spooked, freaking out about the entire situation.

Perhaps she shouldn't have forced her...

Martha smiled again as her eyes caressed the tea set out before her. She couldn't believe her luck when she'd gone to give Mister Poole his afternoon tea to find that he didn't want it and that she was free to indulge herself in it. A nice cup of tea for both her and Jenny sounded wonderful after the day she'd had.

She glanced up from the tea when the door creaked open to reveal Jenny, causing her smile to widen, "There you are! Come and look what I've got... Mister Poole didn't want his afternoon tea so cook said I could have," she grinned at the other maid cheekily, "And there's enough for two," Martha frowned when Jenny remained standing there rigidly. "What are you standing there for?"

Looking around the room, Jenny sniffed deeply.

"Are you all right?"

Finally moving towards the small table, Jenny eyed Martha. "I must have a cold coming on," she replied steely.

"Problem is, I keep thinking about them but I don't know what to do," Martha sighed in irritation, feeling her heart grow heavy at the thought. As soon as the Doctor had returned... everything that had happened between John and Amara... well, she'd have to make up for her losses.

"Thinking about who?" Jenny asked, tilting her head.

"Mister Smith and 'Mara," Martha answered with a sad smile, "They've just got together... and he'll be gone in a few weeks, all that for nothing... it's not fair, y'know?"

Jenny frowned, "Why?"

"It's like he's going to leave – like his contract come to an end," Martha explained with another sigh, "And 'Mara gonna struggle, y'know... to let him know about things..."

"Leave for where?"

"All sorts of places..." Martha sighed softly, a small smile gracing her lips. "I wish I could tell you Jenny, but it's complicated, _so_ complicated."

"In what way?" she probed.

Martha shook her head, "I just can't."

"It sounds _so_ interesting," Jenny told her, though as she spoke Martha knew something wasn't quite right with her friend. "Tell _me_. Tell me _now_."

Martha looked at Jenny, watched as she stared at her intently and her eyes _not_ blinking. She didn't need to be told twice when she was certain something was wrong – Jenny wasn't one to pry. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes thanks."

"I could put a nice bit of gravy in the pot," Martha offered, eyeing the other maid curiously for a quick moment, trying to catch her out. "And some mutton... or sardines and jam, how about that?"

Jenny nodded, "I like the sound of that."

"Right..." Martha offered a tense smile, her back growing rigid as she rose to her feet very slowly. "Hold on a tick," she moved towards the door, trying to keep her keep as to not alert the other woman who _definitely_ wasn't Jenny anymore, clicking the door shut behind her.

Testing the floor, she started walking towards the stairs before breaking out into a run, almost throwing herself down the stairs in her hysteria. Having managed to get out, Martha rushed across the green as a blast of verdant shot behind her, familiar and _far too_ close, barely missing her foot as she ran.

She _needed_ to get to John's study, to Amara... she _had_ to tell her, they had been found out. They weren't safe any longer.

Bursting into the room, Martha's eyes widened when she saw John Smith stood with Amara against the wall, pulling back from another kiss at her unannounced entrance.

"They found us!" Martha told her, rushing up to her immediately.

John rolled his eyes, "Martha, I've _warned_ you..." he started, but she wasn't listening to him.

"'Mara, they've found us and I've _seen_ them..." Martha breathed, grabbing Amara's hands after pushing John out of the way, "They look like normal people, like us... all normal and ordinary."

"I know," Amara nodded, squeezing her hands back as she tried to calm her... she'd known that the group near Tim had been the Family. They had little choice; they had to open the watch. "I know, Martha- "

"They've got Jenny," Martha interrupted immediately, "They've taken her too, there's four of them!" wheeling around, she looked to John, "I'm sorry, but you've _got_ to open the watch..." she raced over to the mantle, having forgotten it was there, "Where is it? Oh, God..."

"It's fine," Amara called to her, drawing her attention back to try and calm the woman. She offered her a soft smile, "You need to find Tim, he can help... but get the screwdriver, just in case."

"What are both talking about?" demanded John, evidently confused as he glanced between the pair of them, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

Rolling her eyes, Martha sighed. "You had a watch," she explained briefly, "A fob-watch, right here..." she pointed to the spot on the mantelpiece where the watch had been for the past two months. "We need it."

"Martha- "

John frowned, "Did I? I don't remember."

Martha let out a frustrated growl, ready to throttle the useless human in front of her if necessary. "We _need_ it... oh, my God," she sucked in deep breath before exhaling everything that she hoped would make John Smith remember the Doctor. "Doctor, we're hiding from aliens, and they've got Jenny – they've possessed her or copied her or something, and you've got to help us!"

Amara wished Martha would have just listened to her; John thought the Doctor was some fantasy, so there was no way he would take anything she was saying seriously. The poor man didn't understand.

Looking to Amara, John smiled in understanding. "Oh, I see... cultural differences," his gaze flew to Martha again and he smiled softly, reaching for his journal to show Martha in, what Amara considered, a condescending fashion, "It must be _so_ confusing for you, Martha... _this_ is what we call a _story_."

"Oh, you complete..." Martha's jaw dropped in shock, astonished by the man before as she looked to Amara, " _This_ is not you. _This_ is nineteen-thirteen."

"Good," John nodded, his tone the same as before, "This _is_ nineteen-thirteen."

"I'm sorry... I'm _really_ sorry, but I've got to snap you out of this," Martha sighed deeply before raising her hand and slapping John across the face, " _Wake up!_ "

"Martha!" Amara frowned.

"You've _got_ to come back to the TARDIS with us."

"How dare... how _dare_ you!" roared John, making Amara double take at the sudden change of tone in his voice, "I'm _not_ going anywhere with an insane servant," he grabbed her arm and began leading her towards the door furiously, "Martha, you are dismissed... you _will_ leave these premises immediately. Now get out!" he shoved her through the door roughly, causing the poor woman to disappear from sight.

Amara watched helplessly... the Family was there, and they didn't have the watch which meant John needed protecting. While she felt sorry for Martha, she hadn't helped herself in the given situation either.

"The nerve of it," John breathed after he had closed the door in Martha's face, letting out a shaky breath. "The absolute cheek... you think I'm a fantasist? What about her?"

Amara winced, "Did you really have to be so forceful with her?"

"She slapped me, Amara!" John exclaimed, equally astonished and outraged that she was actually choosing to side with Martha. "You bought into her fantasies! You mustn't encourage her, there has to be a limit!"

"But John..." Amara reached for his hand, grasping it tightly within her own as she regarded the man before with a soft gaze, smiling softly. "You do have a fob watch. I've seen it many times sitting on the mantle piece, it was there yesterday. Don't you remember?"

* * *

Martha, as quickly as she was able, ran off into the night in her panic and didn't even bother to get the bicycle to aid her in her hurry to get to the TARDIS as soon as she could. Clipping a corner as she rounded it, she bumped into Tim rather forcefully, jolting the boy.

"Oh, sorry!" she shouting, rushing off in her worry and barely noticing that it was Tim she'd run into or that he was still carrying the watch they needed in his hands.

Frowning, Tim stared after her. "Martha?"

"Not now, Tim, busy!"

He continued to stare after Martha as she ran away from him, seeing her in much different clothes than her usual maid's uniform. However, the vision dispersed the farther she ran from him.

Looking down at the watch in the palm of his hands, his gaze narrowed, " _Dangerous..._ " it muttered to him, " _They are here, they are coming... find 'Mara..._ "

* * *

It was a bad idea, she could see that as she glanced around the room.

She could practically feel her hearts in her throat, thumping wildly in her panic. She allowed her eyes to continue to scan the room until they fell upon Tim sneaking into the room as her eyes caught something red.

A little girl, sitting at a table, her hand clutching a red balloon tautly.

Brow furrowed knowingly, Amara glanced at Tim to find him watching her closely. Catching his eyes, she gestured to the little girl slightly as he followed her gaze and paled, nodding before disappearing into the very back of the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the host cried out to them all, "Please take your partners for a waltz."

John grinned as he held out his hand for Amara to take, which she did so reluctantly and trying her best not to grimace either as he led her onto the dance floor as the music began.

Amara studied his movements for a few moments before humming, "So, you can dance..." she remarked softly, allowing him to lead her around the floor, not even stepping on her feet as they danced.

"I've surprised myself," he smiled widely before they bumped into another pair, "Sorry... sorry!"

"Oh the irony," she chuckled as they returned to dance properly, "I should have seen that coming, Mister Smith."

As it turned out, the Doctor had made John Smith quite the dancer... though she found herself grateful when he when they'd stopped their dancing.

"Goodness!" he laughed to himself, still smiling, "All of that dancing has taken the wind out of me... would you like a drink?"

Amara smiled at him, "That would be lovely, thank you," she told him softly as he disappeared with a flutter, bumbling over to the drinks like a besotted fool.

Once he was gone, she took the opportunity to look around the room again, scanning for Tim to see him moving towards her from a distance before looking to check on the girl and finally she noticed Joan as the matron came to plonk herself down opposite her.

"Ask him for a dance," Amara spoke suddenly, eyeing the woman as she looked rather lonely.

Joan's brow furrowed in confused, looking up to see the woman studying her closely. "I beg your pardon?" she bit out, not sure she understood.

"John," Amara nodded towards the man in question who was still fussing over drinks, "Ask John for a dance."

"Don't be absurd," Joan scoffed, shaking her head in the outrage of the suggestion.

Sighing, Amara frowned. "Why not? Who cares about keeping up appearances and being all proper?" Joan sent her an alarmed look, "You want a dance, Joan... you go and get yourself a dance."

"I won't," Joan sighed, "Not when he's so clearly taken with you..." she had admitted to herself that while she was attracted to John, she found seeing him so smitten over Amara made up for her wanton behaviour. She found she couldn't be bitter towards the woman opposite her, "I won't."

"I was rather hoping you would."

"Why?" Joan asked, not understanding why the woman before her seemed so reluctant in her feelings toward John when his were so clear.

Amara thought for a moment, "I'm not ready to embark on..." she looked to John and frowned, "What he wants... I can't give him – there are complications, and..."

Joan straightened slightly, "Perhaps you should tell him about your concerns."

"That's the thing, Joan," Amara breathed in frustration, "I try and yet, he persistently won't listen."

"Such an insufferable man."

Amara laughed, "Oh yes."

Sighing, she got to her feet and began to moved around the other tables until she could see him sat a few seats away. "Tim?" the small boy tried to make out he hadn't been watching her move towards him, but soon enough, he finally looked at her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Miss Lambert," he nodded, shifting his chair as he looked up at her.

"Shouldn't you be in your dorm?" Amara asked, nodding to his pocket with intent, "Keeping the old chap safe?"

"He told me to find you, he wants you to be safe," Tim sighed sadly, looking suddenly apologetic. "He wants you to hold him..."

She winced, conflicted over what was right and what was wrong... "I told you, Tim. I _can't_ do that. It's not safe for him if I have the watch," she shook her head, clenching her jaw tightly to maintain all sense of normality, to remind her of her role and what she had to do.

Glancing around the room cautiously, he lowered his voice still. "You need to open it," Tim murmured, "They're here and they're getting closer..."

Amara nodded gravely, "I know," she acknowledged with a deep sigh before running a hand along her face, "He makes it so difficult- "

"Who are you to him?" Tim blurted suddenly which make Amara blink, taken aback.

Staring at him briefly, she cleared her throat when her shoulders finally sagged. "An old friend."

"He doesn't know that it's you though," Tim pointed the necklace at the base of her throat with interest and knowing, "Because of that."

Amara smiled softly, "No, he doesn't," she was finding she rather liked Timothy Latimer.

"Why not? Why won't you tell him?" Tim pressed, wanting to know why she was so important to the Doctor and why the watch wanted to be with her... he needed answers. "Why lie?"

"Because everyone's safer that way. We have enemies, I have enemies..." glancing away from the boy, Amara found herself hanging her head in her own shame. That was no excuse to not tell the Doctor about who she really was, it was cowardly if anything. It wasn't her. "And it would destroy him if he ever found out."

Tim tilted his head at her questioningly, "But what about the other man? The laughing man?"

"What man?" Amara countered, frowning. _Could he..._ she never finished the thought as she clocked Martha entering the room, glancing around with a sudden purpose, trying to locate her. When their eyes met, Martha withdrew the screwdriver from her pocket to wave at her, earning a curt nod from Amara approval.

Thank God for backups.

"The one you seek..." Tim asserted as he drew her attention back to him, sitting forward as he eyed her, wanting to know of the true dangers they faced. He wanted to help them, wanted to them rewarded for their hardships. "He's coming. What happens then?"

Amara swallowed thickly, "I die."

"Latimer?" came John's voice, rather loud and perplexed into their conversation. The man was holding two drinks – a pint of beer for himself and a glass of something golden and fizzing for her. Something she _wouldn't_ be drinking.

She needed to maintain a clear mind, and alcohol wasn't good for them at all.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" he asked incredulously, eyeing the boy rather sternly, "And past curfew, I might say..."

Jumping to his feet, Tim glanced at Amara in slight panic. "Uh, I was just leaving, sir," he replied quickly, moving around the table, "Goodnight, sir... Ma'am."

"Go careful," Amara called to the boy as she watched him leave.

John, frowning in discontent as the boy moved away, eyed the woman beside him when the boy glanced over his shoulder and nodded.

"What was that about then?" John asked, wanting to know what he'd missed out on between the pair. As of late, his concern for Latimer had been increasing the more distant the boy grew.

Amara sighed, "I don't really know why he was here," she told him with a shrug, leading him over to the table they had acquired earlier, "But I took it as an opportunity to see if he was all right."

"Oh," John nodded, though he was still frowning as he set their drinks down, moving to settle into his chair, "And how is he?"

"Worried," Amara replied softly, "It's that dormitory he's in, I've always said it... those boys aren't well suited for him, too forceful..."

John sighed, biting his lower lip in thought. "Perhaps you're right, Hutchinson can be belligerent at the best of times... and Latimer is rather sensitive..."

"That's not what I meant," Amara quipped before sighing, ignoring John's frown as he stared her. "Tim isn't the type of boy, sensitive or not, that I would expect to see at Farringham. His talents lie outside of the militaristic future."

"It's not all about the military," John remarked, sipping his beer.

Amara arched a brow, "Has anyone ever become a physicist? A barrister? There's more to life than warfare for these boys, John," she commented dryly, her brow furrowing deeply. Why did the school remind her of Gallifrey?

"I hadn't thought of it like that."

"So!" she plastered on a cheerful smile, moving to pluck her glass from the table and changing the subject to a lighter one, "What did you get me?"

"Well," John smiled brilliantly, suddenly looking rather smug with himself as he sat forwards. "I know you're not one for alcohol... so, I opted for a lime and soda?"

Amara hummed in agreement, freely sipping at the drink. "Good choice, Mister Smith," she praised in amusement, seeing him flush.

Amara allowed her eyes to settle over John's shoulder as she watched Martha walking towards their table, smiling softly, relieved that she was safe. "Martha, sorry about earlier," she moved to stand as she greeted her friend, "Are you all right?"

Martha nodded, holding the Doctor's sonic screwdriver tightly in her hand, "I got the screwdriver... thought it might be able to convince John of who he _actually_ is. Any luck finding Tim?"

"It's safe."

Turning around, John's eyes bulged when he caught sight of Martha standing behind him. "Oh, now really, Martha," he exclaimed, climbing to his feet instantly with a furrowed brow. "This is getting out of hand... I must insist that you leave."

Martha looked to Amara who nodded, and she pulled out the sonic screwdriver again as she turned to face John properly, "Do you know what this is?"

Staring at the device in his maid's hand, for a split second the faintest flash of recognition crossed his face. "Go on," Amara called over him softly, "Go on, name it..."

Hesitantly, he reached out and slowly took the sonic from Martha, turning it over in his own hands, almost marvelling over it.

"You're _not_ John Smith," Martha told him gently, "You're call the Doctor... the man in your journal, he's _real_... he's _you_."

John opened his mouth, about the name the device when someone suddenly stormed into the room, knocking over a hat stand and causing several people to scream and run.

Amara wheeled around to see a man she recognised as Mister Clarke standing there with an alien gun in his hand. Sucking in a sharp breath, she moved to pull Martha behind her, forcing her from sight.

"There will be silence! All of you!" he bellowed as Baines and Jenny strode in, scarecrows filing in after them, "I said silence!"

"Mister Clarke!" the host shouted in outrage, "What's going on?"

Clarke, not bothering with a reply, turned on him and fired his weapon which soon rendered the poor man a pile of dust.

"Mister Smith... everything I told you, just forget it!" Martha whispered hurriedly amidst all the shrieking, her eyes wide with fright. "Don't say _anything_."

"We asked for silence!" Baines yelled as an immediate silence fell, "Now then... we have a few questions for Mister Smith."

"No, better than that," the little girl with the red balloon spoke up, skipping over to where the other members of the Family were stood, "The teacher... _he's_ the Doctor, I _heard_ them talking."

Amara gritted her teeth, eyeing the girl as she danced over to Baines, smirking. _Idiot..._

"You took human form," Baines remarked softly, staring at him.

"Of course I'm human, I was born human!" John exclaimed in outrage, glancing between them all in his confusion, "As were you, Baines... and Jenny, and you, Mister Clarke!" he breathed, shaken, "What is going on? This is madness!"

"And a human brain, took!" Baines chuckled, "Simple, thick and dull."

"He's no good like this," Jenny sighed.

"We need a _Time Lord_ ," Clarke added in agreement.

"Easily done," Baines asserted curtly. Stepping forward, he raised his gun and aimed it at John which roused gasps from the crowd that had gathered. "Change back!"

At the movement, Amara went to stand in front of John but Martha yanked her back by the arm. "Don't be stupid," she hissed under her breath, knowing that if she caused too much of a scene, the Family would find out.

John shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Change back!"

"I literally _do_ _not_ know..." he started but Jenny grabbed Martha and yanked her away, causing her to let go of Amara's arm instantly.

"Get off me!" Martha struggled as Jenny pulled her against her, holding her as a shield before positioning the gun at her head.

She felt her hearts stop in her chest at the loss of contact, her panic rising within her. "Martha!" Amara made to move for her, recalling the promise she made to her but John grabbed her, shoving her behind him.

"She's your friend, isn't she?" Jenny smirked, tilting her head at John, "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?"

"I _don't_ know what you _mean_!" John exclaimed frantically as he moved to the side, trying to prevent Amara from being in the line of fire.

Noting his movements, Jenny titled her head even more when she caught something, "Wait a minute... the maid told me about Smith and the woman... _that woman_ , there!" she shouted, pointing to Amara.

"Let's have you!" Clarke shouted as he moved, quickly grabbing Amara from where she was behind John, not giving the man enough time to react.

Much like Jenny, Clarke held her by the arm in front of him, his gun against her head and pressing into the side of her temple.

"Let her go!" John demanded, glowering at the man furiously.

"Have you enjoyed it, Doctor?" Baines smirked at him, "Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer... wiser? Then let's see you answer this..." Baines gestured to the two restrained women, "Which one of them do you want us to kill? Maid or teacher? Your friend or your lover?"

Martha gulped, struggling against Jenny as she chanced a glance at Amara. She knew John would pick her, she was only a maid. She didn't matter to him, but she had to hope that Amara would stand in the way of that. She had to trust in her friend.

"Your choice."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, you lovely people! Damn John, eh?**

 **'Mara's a bit stuck... the question is, does she regret willingly participating the John's pursuit of her? A lot of smooches in this one, but the fact that Amara questioning her moral code... well...**

 **What will John Smith do when he finds out what has to happen?**

 **Let's put it this way, John romance with Amara is going to change the flirtationship between Amara and the Doctor.**

 **As always I hope you read and review - thoughts are always welcome with each update! Please drop your thoughts, the more the merrier.**

 **REVIEWERS:**

 **Guest #1 - _Thank you, I hope you enjoy this latest update!_**

 **Guest #2 - _I hope you enjoy the new update!_**

 **BoomBot - _Hi, well thanks for a review! That will definitely complicate matters, seeing as John is very much intent on pursuing the relationship Amara is trying -and failing- to prevent at all costs. She's only wearing the Perception Filter to keep herself hidden from Sontarans etc. and until she finds YANA. Yes, the Doctor will remember anything that happens which will definitely affect their friendship as well as some angst. Their flitationship will be strained, that's for sure. Hope you like the update!_**

 **Tears - _Hello there! I think after reading this chapter, it's safe to say that Amara has willingly participated in the would-be romance with John, but more out of pity than anything else. Yes, the Doctor will remember it which is... well, they'll both be in trouble for that! I think it's safe to say from the chapter, Mara's screwed. Hope you enjoy the update!_**

 **ShadowTeir - _Hello! Thank you for reviewing; I'm glad you liked the chapter - it's always wonderful to read. I've imagined 'Mara to be the type of person who can settle anywhere and because the way she was on Gallifrey, it helps significantly. Well, the 'wandering hands' progresses in this one as well! I doubt the Doctor will be anything but happy when he returns, especially when realises John's relationship with 'Mara but there is a twist to that. He does remember, and 'Mara freaks out. I'm glad you get the 'Blink' - that was my intention! :D I hope you like the update! XXX_**

 **...**

 **Thank you all for reading,**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


	16. XV

"Perhaps if that human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge," Baines eyed John curiously as he stared wide eyed at Amara, "It's your choice."

"Make your decision, Mister Smith," Jenny taunted, "We don't have all night."

John could barely think, barely bring himself to speak while a gun was being held at Amara's head. He had no idea... what did they want him to do? What was he supposed to do to sort the problem? If he did something wrong, then he'd lose Amara. He didn't want that – he _never_ wanted that.

He'd been so grateful to her for having helped him and Martha when he had been due to start Farringham, when she had stumbled upon them and offered her immediate aid without a second thought. The way she had smiled at him... he had barely left her alone since arriving at Farringham, he tried to accompany her everywhere she went, made sure to speak with her everyday. He hated the days when he didn't see her, when she had been confined to hers rooms for a number of days due to a cold. He _loathed_ those days and how they made his world a little darker. She made his heart race.

He couldn't imagine life without her... and he knew that was _very_ likely if he didn't act in her best interest, to prevent the madness and-

"John, it's all right," Amara called over to him softly, wanting to calm him before he hastily said something he would later regret. She wouldn't let him go and get Martha killed. She would never forgive him for that.

Knowing John would be of little help, Amara resigned herself to having to use her own methods.

Closing her eyes, she found herself concentrating for a short moment until a yelp erupted into the air, prompting her to step out of Clarke's grip and seize the gun in his hand fluidly.

Without wasting anymore time, Amara turned her attention to Jenny. "Now," she clicked her neck, fortunate that the dress she was wearing concealed her neck and bought her some more time to pass as a human. "Either you let Martha go or I shoot you where you stand," she warned, voice grave as she focused on Martha, trying to ignore John as he burned a hole in the back of her head, "Do even think of using her as a human shield, because then you'll be facing a whole new ugly."

Smirking, Jenny tilted her head at Amara. "Would you really risk the life of the human Jenny?"

Amara clenched her jaw, "Perhaps if there was anything left... however, an empty vessel remains. Do you want to test your theory?" Amara watched as Jenny glanced at Baines, who nodded, shoving Martha away.

Immediately, Amara pulled her behind her to direct the gun on Baines, knowing he was the one in charge of the Family.

"Oh, the teacher is full of fire..." Baines smirked.

Tilting the gun, Amara fired into the ceiling before lowering it again. "A fire which you are feeding."

"Careful, Son of Mine," Clarke warned, eyeing the seriousness of the women stood before them holding the gun, "This is all for you so that you can live forever."

"Shoot you down!" Baines exclaimed devilishly, aiming the gun so it fell straight on Amara, who to Martha's surprise, didn't flinch.

"Try it Sonny Jim," Amara bit out testily, "I've already made it quite clear that I'll fire at Jenny, and guess what? I liked her far more than you... do you want to test that theory?" Baines stared at her for a long while, contemplating silently, before eventually lowering the gun in his hand. "There's a door to the side," Amara called to Martha, "It's over there... get out, go on! Everyone now!"

The crowd behind her didn't need to be told twice as they were soon rushing towards the door, quite literally running for their lives, "'Mara..." Martha wavered as she turned to look at Amara, hesitant to leave her.

She glanced back to see John standing firmly behind her, resolute and not about to leave her. Amara knew it wouldn't listen to her, even if she was the one holding the gun. Looking to Joan in exasperation, she pleaded: "You need to get him out," the matron, however, hesitated a moment before bowing her head and proceeded to push John from the room.

When she moved to turn back again, she also caught sight of Tim still in the room, frozen. "Tim, get back to the school!" she implored as he made a run for it as well.

All that remained was the Family, the bloody scarecrows and Amara with Martha refusing to leave her side.

Amara backed away from them as they advanced, pulling Martha with her... she wasn't scared of killing anyone, and she had killed before. She knew what she had to do but Martha kept her grounded somewhat; Martha was the innocent in all of it.

"She's almost brave, this one," Baines remarked, grinning sickeningly as he continued towards them, his head tilting. "And the little maid, so loyal... perhaps she does know her place after all?"

"I should have taken _her_ form," Jenny sighed, "Much more fun... so much spirit."

"What happened to Jenny?" Martha asked as she pulled Amara away, hoping that there was still some part of Jenny that could be saved, "Is she gone?"

"She is consumed. Her body's mine."

"You mean she's _dead_ ," Martha glowered in reply.

"Yes, and she went with precious little dignity. All that… ahh," she gave a mock scream, "… screaming."

Her grip tightening on the gun, Amara tried to will herself to shoot the damn gun but she found herself hesitating, which was enough time for one of the scarecrows to grab her from behind, pulling the gun from her hands. Fearful, Martha tugged on her arm and forced her to run from the room against the want to stay.

"You _had_ a clear shot, 'Mara!" Martha exclaimed as they ran along.

Amara gritted her teeth as she pushed Martha through the door, "Well, she was your friend, wasn't she? I didn't want you to watch that..." following her through the door, she found herself sighing when she saw John and Joan stood waiting for them. "I don't like guns."

"What are you _doing_ here?" Martha demanded, rushing over to the two of them as they stood looking clueless.

"He refused to leave," Joan sighed in exasperation, glancing at John as he stared at Amara absently, silently checking to see if she was fine. "I _did_ try."

"Right," Amara didn't waste any time as she seized John's hand and proceeded to pull him down the road after her with Martha and Joan following behind, "We need to move, _now_!"

"God, you're _rubbish_ as a human!"

By the time they had all made it to the school, they were all breathless and thankfully alone. Once inside, John hauled a heavy wooden door shut behind them before rushing to grasp a hand bell, frantically ringing it.

"What are you _doing_?" Amara demanded, turning to face him in an instant.

"Maybe one man can't fight them, but this school teaches us to stand together," John explained before turning towards the stairs, "Take arms! Take arms!"

"You can't _do_ that!"

"You want me to _fight_ , don't you?" John snapped at Martha before continuing when he heard movement from above: "Take arms! Take arms!"

"John..." Amara stepped towards him and settled a hand on his arm to stop him, hoping to stop his dithering about her safety and pay attention to the important matter at hand. " _Please_..." she let out a shuddering breath, " _Don't_ involve the boys."

He turned to look at her and paused, frowning, as the boys began to rush around them. "I _will_ protect you," he told her in absolution, and by the tone of his voice she found herself _believing_ him too.

He could feel it in his chest, that restricting painful feeling that threatened to suffocate him at any given moment. He wouldn't break. He wouldn't be weak and he wouldn't be afraid. He could feel his heart racing in his heart as he continued to silently panic; he _had_ to protect Amara from those people.

He couldn't put his finger on it but he _knew_ he needed to make sure she was safe above everyone else and keep her safe from those who would want to hurt her – in his chest, in his mind, in his heart... _protect her. Keep Amara from harm._

"Amara, you _must_ listen to me," John implored her softly, touching her face for a moment and allowed his fingers to ghost over her jaw. "I've got to keep you safe, I won't let anything happen to you... I _will_ protect you."

"I say sir, what's the matter?" Hutchinson demanded, interrupting their moment as he headed straight towards him.

But John didn't seem at all angered by it, "Enemy at the door, Hutchinson. Enemy at the door... take arms!" at his words, the boys immediately scattered and began gathering guns and any other weapons to prepare themselves for war.

Martha stared in shock at John, watching as he sent Amara a meaningful glance, and finding the moment oddly touching before she came to her senses. "You can't _do_ this, Doctor," Martha shook her head profusely, imploring him to stop, wanting to reason with him. "Mister Smith!"

"Maintain position over the stable yard!" John commanded, ignoring her entirely.

"They're just _boys_! You can't ask them to _fight_!"

"Faster now! That's it..."

"They don't stand a chance, John," Amara called to him gently, her voice cutting through the chaos to reach him, making him stop once more to turn and face the three women garrisoned behind him. "They'll die... you promised me."

"They're cadets, Amara," John told her firmly, "They are trained to defend King and all his properties."

"What in thunder's name is _this_?" came the furious tone of the headmaster as he marched into the room, glowering at those around him in momentary confusion. "Before I devise an excellent and endless series of punishments for each and every one of you, could someone explain very simply and immediately exactly what is going on?"

"Headmaster, I have to report the school is under attack," John spoke up, stepping forwards suddenly, his tone serious as he implored the headmaster to believe every word he's spoken.

"Really?" the headmaster arched an incredulous brow, "Is that so? Perhaps you and I should have a word in private..."

"I promise you, sir," John cut in suddenly, "I was in the village with Am- Miss Lambert... it's Baines, sir. Jeremy Baines and Mister Clarke from Oakham Farm. They've gone mad, sir... they've got guns. They've already _murdered_ people in the village, I _saw_ it happen."

"Oh, of course you would be involved," the headmaster's eyes settled upon Amara with slight disdain. Instead, he turned his attention to the matron, and she was the only one whose word he would seemingly trust, "Matron, is that so?"

Matron nodded, "I'm afraid it's true, sir."

"Total warfare..." Amara spoke hollowly, "A bloodbath, apparently."

Rocastle's eyes trailed to Amara again, the woman was stood looking defiantly at the floor in deep thought as those she was trying to figure something out in her head. He had to admit, although his didn't necessarily agree with the woman, he could agree that she had a very sound mind.

Since having arrived at the school, and she had been a success with the boys. She had managed to influence the boys in such a way that they seemed to grow, to flourish in her teachings. It impressed him. It surprised him.

"Murder on our own soil?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps you did well then, Mister Smith," he turned back to John, "What makes you think the danger's coming here?"

"Well, sir, they said... um..." John trailed off, his eyes flying to Amara who refused to look at him.

"Baines threatened Mister Smith, sir," Joan interjected smoothly, aiding him in his defence. "He, um... said he'd follow him. We don't know why."

"Very well," Rocastle gave a nod of acknowledgment. "You boys remain on guard... Mister Snell, telephone the police. Mister Philips, with me... we shall investigate."

Martha rushed over to him, putting herself in his way, "No, it's not safe out there."

"Mister Smith, it seems your favourite servant is giving me advice," he glowered down at Martha, "You will control here," he moved to leave again, but soon enough, Amara had managed to move to stand in front of him.

"Perhaps," Amara stared him down coolly, "You should listen to her sound advice, advice which may save your life and- "

"I've faced your idiocy once," Rocastle breathed in outrage, glaring at the woman as she stood in his way. "But I will _not_ be berated by some woman who thinks she _knows_."

"They're boys!" she raged, feeling her temper rising with her, "You have no idea what you will face out there!"

"I was in Boer War, Miss Lambert... I know warfare, and I survived! Damn you, I survived by using my comrades as sandbags! I fought with everything I had! I- "

Rocastle's words died in his mouth.

Amara didn't really now what came over her or _why_ she had done it... he was just _so_ infuriating. Around her, the boys stopped in their progression, astonished at what they had just witnessed.

Amara's hand was shaking as she lowered it.

Perhaps it wasn't the most appropriate thing to slap Rocastle in front of most of the alumni.

"You know nothing of warfare," Amara told him steely, allowing a shaky breath to pass her lips. "I have seen war, one that has left me alone... _so_ alone that I question why I'm still alive. I have lost everything, and I have seen many things, sir. This war isn't one you can win."

Sucking in a deep breath, Amara stepped away from Rocastle to turn to look at John who was staring at her, stunned, before marching over to the window.

Martha wasn't shocked when the headmaster still strode out of the room, ignoring the warnings given to him. Sighing, she moved towards Amara's side to find her shaking in her fury...

"Martha, we need to fin Tim..." Amara told her softly, turning to face her as she tried to calm her temper so it died within her. "I need to get out of these clothes and into something more comfortable..." she couldn't care less what anyone thought of her, she couldn't care less. "Martha, he has the watch..." she looked to John again, finding him helping the boys and frowned, "I'll keep an eye on him."

Understanding, Martha nodded and grabbed Joan's arm to pull her from the room before she could ask any questions.

Shuddering slightly, Amara swallowed her pride and turned away from the window entirely when she saw Baines and Jenny move to the gate with the scarecrow soldiers.

She knew she would _need_ to run, to sort out the mess made by the Doctor... and she couldn't bloody well do it while wearing a corset.

* * *

Upon marching outside, Rocastle and Mister Phillips jolted to a halt when they both clamped eyes upon Baines and Jenny, hoping to reason with them in order to stop the progression of the farce. "So, Baines and one of the cleaning staff," Rocastle sighed in annoyance with an eye roll, "There's always a woman involved... am I to gather that some practical joke had got out of hand?"

"Headmaster, sir," Baines grinned in greeting, "Good evening, sir. Come to give me a caning, sir? Would you like that, sir?"

"Keep a civil tongue, boy," Rocastle glowered in warning.

"Now, come now everyone," Mister Phillips attempted to reason with Baines, "I suspect alcohol has played its part in this... let's all just calm down. And who are these friends of yours, Baines? In fancy dress."

"Do you like them, Mister Phillips?" Baines acknowledged the scarecrows at his side with a smirk, "I made them myself, I'm ever so good at science, sir. Look..." he strode over to one of the soldiers and yanked off one of the arms. "Molecular fringe animation fashioned in the shape of straw men," Baines glanced at the headmaster again, "My own private army, sir... ever so good, sir."

"Baines, step apart from this company and come inside with me," the headmaster commanded sternly.

"No, sir," Baines stiffened suddenly, "You, sir, you will send us Mister John Smith. That's _all_ we want, sir, Mister John Smith and whatever he's done with his Time Lord consciousness... then we'd be very happy to leave you alone."

"You speak with someone else's voice, Baines," the headmaster commented, "Who might that be?"

"We are the Family of Blood."

The headmaster eyes him curiously, "Mister Smith said there had been deaths."

"Yes, sir!" Baines beamed in amusement, "And they were good, sir!"

"Well, I warn you, the school is armed."

"All your little tin soldiers," Baines remarked in a quip, "But tell me, sir, will they thank you?"

"I don't understand."

"What do you know of history, sir?" Baines tilted his head questioningly, almost condescendingly at Rocastle before squinting, "What do you know of next year?"

The headmaster scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief at what Baines was saying, "You're not making sense, Baines."

"Nineteen-fourteen, sir. Because the Family has travelled far and wide looking for Mister Smith and, oh, the things we have seen... war is coming. In foreign fields, war of the whole wide world, with all your boys falling down in the mud. Do you think they will thank the man who taught them it was glorious?"

"Don't you forget, boy, I've been a soldier," Rocastle bellowed at him in his usual arrogant tones, "I was in South Africa and I would go back there tomorrow for King and Country!"

"Et cetera, et cetera," Baines suddenly interjected before turning on Phillips and firing, turning him to dust. "Run along, headmaster. Run back to the school, and send us Mister Smith!"

From the window Amara watched as Rocastle rushed back into the school, fleeing before she looked to John, "Don't take any notice," she assured him softly, placing a hand upon his cheek to try and draw his attention away

John forced a smile but he couldn't help but feel anxious at the pit withering at the bottom of his stomach, and the very last thing he wanted for Amara to be compromised while protecting him. "Forgive me, Amara, and I know this isn't the right time..." he shifted on his feet, silently thankful for the distraction. "But what are you wearing?"

She looked down sheepishly, frowning thought as she took in her own appearance. Despite John's disgust, it felt good to be back in normal clothing. "What I usually wear, not time to explain- "

Swiftly enough, Rocastle stormed in a rush of fury, "Mister Phillips had been murdered, Mister Smith," he came to stand before John expectantly, "Can you tell me why?"

"Honestly, sir, I have no idea," John replied tersely, glancing at Amara momentarily, "And the telephone line's been disconnected... we're on our own."

"If we have to make a fight of it, then make a fight we shall," the headmaster finally determined gravely, avoiding Amara's intense glare before turning to Hutchinson, "Hutchinson, we'll build a barricade within the courtyards, fortify the entrances, build our defences... Gentlemen, in the name of the King, we shall stand against them."

"Yes, sir!" the boys hollered in confirmation, immediately filing out of the room to help fortify the defences of the school as John and Amara stood, aghast.

"They're _only_ boys," Amara sighed, seemingly unaware that John had heard her before he also turned and walked from the room to help the boys, leaving her alone with her dangerous mind.

* * *

Martha fluttered about manically as she searched through John's study, checking absolutely everywhere and anywhere to try and find wherever Tim was hiding while she attempted to explain to Joan who John Smith really was, though she doubted the Matron would believe her. "I _know_ it sounds mad, but when the Doctor became human, he took the alien part of himself and stored it inside the watch. It's not _really_ a watch; it just _looks_ like a watch."

"And alien means...not from abroad, I take it," Joan remarked as she stood there, not entirely sure how she felt about Martha claiming John was _actually_ an alien.

"The man you call John Smith..." Martha sighed, "He was born on another world."

"A different species."

Martha nodded gravely, "Yeah," she felt bad. She didn't want to intentionally hurt the Matron by throwing everything at her all at once, and to make it worse, she liked the woman because she was a good person. But she also knew that Nurse Redfern fancied John Smith at little _too_ much and with Amara being from Gallifrey, it made sense in her mind that if the Doctor was to be with anyone, it should be her.

Amara was a brilliant person, a friend and someone who had saved her life... the Doctor needed someone so balanced like Amara – she was good for him, and she was the type of person to put the needs of others above herself and strive for happiness no matter what.

"Then tell me," Joan pulled Martha from her thoughts, "In this fairy tale... who are you?"

Martha frowned for a moment, realising that Joan didn't believe a single word she'd said. Some part of her had hoped that after telling her about everything, that she wouldn't persist with what she _thought_ was reality. She was making it much more difficult than it needed to be.

She was all in for trying to get the Doctor and Amara together. It seemed John Smith was already on her team anyway.

"Just a friend," Martha smiled in assurance, "And 'Mara's my best friend, actually."

Joan eyed her dubiously for a moment, "You're human I take it?"

"Oh, I am," Martha affirmed as she glanced at the other woman from where she'd been looking behind the curtains, "Human, don't worry... and more than that, I just don't follow him around. I'm training to be a doctor, not an alien doctor, a proper doctor, a doctor of medicine."

"Well, that certainly is _nonsense_ ," Joan shook her head at the notion, "Women _might_ train to be doctors, but hardly a skivvy and hardly one of your colour."

"What does that matter?" a voice called out to them as both women turned to see Amara standing in the doorway wearing her usual, more comfortable garb, casually leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. "Martha, why don't you give us a demonstration... I do love it when you talk medicine to me."

A grin spread across Martha's face in an instant at the appearance of her friend before she turned to Joan, holding up her hand, "Bones of the hand," she cleared her throat, ready to prove her knowledge. "Carpal bones, proximal row: scaphoid, lunate, triquetrum, pisiform. Distal row: trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate. Then the metacarpal bones extending in three distinct phalanges: proximal, middle, distal."

"You read that in a book," Joan commented, silently astonished at how much Martha _really_ knew, and how she had deftly described it to her.

"Yes, to pass my exams," Martha laughed with a soft smile, "Can't you see this is true?"

Joan, however, turned to Amara then. "And you? What's your role in this supposed story seeing as you and Martha are quite good chums... was it your plan to lure John into this farce? Is that it?"

At her words, Amara bite her tongue to suppress the anger. " _That_ was unintentional, and was not something I _ever_ wanted to pursue. It just sort of... happened."

"So, you're a friend too then," Joan assumed with a nod, glancing between the two women.

"She's an alien too!" Martha interjected suddenly, "Just like John, they're meant to be together!"

"Martha!" Amara groaned, closing her eyes in frustration. She was trying to make something out of nothing; she would _never_ let herself become so blinded or besotted by the Doctor, even if she had allowed herself to become so with John. It had been out of pity, nothing more.

Joan blinked. She swallowed thickly as she finally acknowledged the truth, that John Smith was _always_ meant to love Amara seeing as she was so alike him. "I must go," she told both of the woman as they continued to stare at her before she moved towards the door, wanting to leave the madness as she'd found it.

"But Matron!" Martha called out after her, stepping forward despite Amara pulling her back. "We _need_ to find Tim and that watched... if we do, we _can_ stop them."

"Those boys are going to fight," Joan sighed, shaking her head as she paused in the doorway, "I might not be a doctor, but I'm _still_ their nurse. They need me," and with that, she turned and left.

Amara frowned, turning to Martha, "Tim's not here... I can't feel the Doctor's consciousness on this floor, so we'll have to check further."

She had refused to stay and watch as John helped the boys with the headmaster, preparing for a battle those young boys wouldn't win. It reminded her of Gallifrey, of all the children who had been slaughtered at the hands of the Daleks and Rassilon. She couldn't bear it.

They need to find Tim and the watch, and then... if anyone could prevent anymore bloodshed at the hands of the Family, it would be the Doctor. There was always the alternative of revealing herself to them but she doubted that would end well either. She needed to protect John and the Doctor both.

With that, she moved to leave the study to check upstairs, hearing Martha follow her hesitantly, "What about the TARDIS?"

"We can't go to the TARDIS, Martha," Amara called down to her with a sigh, "It isn't safe, and undoubtedly, the Family will be looking for her anyway."

"But it's the safest place we can be!" Martha shouted in panic, "The Doctor ran from them and- "

Amara smoothly cut her off with an eye roll, "He ran because that was the kind thing to do." Martha frowned at her words, obviously not understanding what she meant. "It's the fury of the Time Lord, that's what he spared them from... our fury is... it's not pleasant, _at all_. You never want to find yourself in the middle of a Time Lord and their vengeance," Amara shuddered, clearing her head as she glanced around. "It was better to run away."

She moved to usher Martha along but the woman refused to move which made Amara sigh in defeat. "Look at what the Family are doing out there, Martha," Amara frowned, "They're murdering people... and when the Doctor returns, if the Doctor returns, he won't let that slide... and if it's immortality they want, who's to say the Doctor won't give it to them?"

Martha's eyes widened, "He _can't_ give himself up!"

"I didn't mean that," Amara commented softly, squeezing her shoulder, "There are other ways, crueller ways."

Martha had seen the shift in Amara's gaze when she'd called out Rocastle, noticing the entire shift in her body as she confronted him about war, realising that the anger she was referring to had been present then. She had _seen_ it.

Turning away, she ran a hand over her face in thought when her eyes caught something in the window, "'Mara, they've found the TARDIS!"

Wheeling around, Amara let out a pained sound before flying down the stairs again, "We need to find Tim!"

* * *

Joan was striding by with her arms full of materials for the infirmary when her eyes fell upon John as he rushed about, "You're with Armitage and Thwaites," he was commanding them when he suddenly noticed her, "They know the drill... Matron, it's not safe."

"I'm doing my duty, just as much as you are," she replied curtly, tilting her head at him in question as she went to speak until something else seemed to draw his attention.

"Amara!" he called out when a familiar woman ran past them, heading towards the front of the school, panic strewn across her face as he moved to run after her, completely forgetting Joan. Managing to catch up with her, John grabbed her arm and yanked her back to face him, "Where are you going?"

"I need to find Timothy."

"Latimer?" John frowned, "Whatever do you need him for?"

"John, I _need_ to find him."

Refusing to let her go, he pulled her again when she tried to leave. "What's going on?"

Amara pinched the bridge of her nose when she felt the distress calls from the TARDIS invading her mind. She only wanted the Doctor... and well, if John carried on with the clingy issues he seemed to be very good at demonstrating, she could see herself descending into madness. No man is worth that aggravation. "Tell me about Nottingham."

"Sorry?" he blinked, startled by the sudden change in their conversation.

"Where you were brought up..." she _needed_ the Doctor, Martha _needed_ the Doctor... the whole of Farringham did. "Tell me about it."

"Well, it lies on the River Leen," John started in uncertainty, wondering why she needed to know all this in that very moment when he'd spoken of it before, "Its southern boundary following the course of the River Trent which flows from Stoke to the Humber."

Amara tried to not smile at how he sounded like the Doctor when he spoke, "You sound like a textbook or something," she commented softly, "Where did you live?"

"Broadmoor Street. Adjacent to Hotley Terrace in the district of Radford Parade."

She reached forwards for his hands suddenly, squeezing them in her own. "But more than facts," Amara spoke urgently, wanting him to realise who he _actually_ was, "When you were a child, where did you play? All those secret little places... little hideaways that only a child knows? Tell me, John."

"How can you think that I'm not real?" John's eyes widened when he realised what she was insinuating, how hurt he looked at the accusation. "When I kissed you... was that a lie?" he placed her hands to his chest, holding her gaze firmly, "The way my hearts speeds up when you're near, is that a lie?"

Amara closed her eyes for a moment, knowing she didn't like being responsible for him being so upset. "No... of course, it is."

She didn't want to hurt him... but it was hard not to in the situation they were in... and with John being so caught up in the idea of her, it made it all the more difficult than it needed to be. But everyone would die if she didn't put aside her own feelings... she hated death. But she could herself becoming more and more annoyed with John Smith and his dithering ways, how he seemed to cling to her and yank her down, it made her feel like she was drowning - she lacked the freedom she needed to survive.

She felt like she was drowning.

"But this Doctor sounds like some... some romantic lost prince," he sneered, frowning at her in disdain, "Would rather that instead of what I've given you? Am I not enough?"

"No," she shook her head, squeezing his hands. She felt like she was being pulled apart by John Smith, and she hated every moment of it. "That's not true, _never_."

"I've got to go," John started, moving to leave.

"Those boys," Amara spoke, making him stop to look at her, "They're children... and I hope John Smith wouldn't want them to fight, never mind the Doctor," she set her hand against his chest once again, "The John Smith I know..." Amara glanced up at him, "He knows it's wrong."

His gaze softened at he watched her, his fingers falling upon her jaw as he moved to caress her cheek until Rocastle's voice rippled through the air to greet them, "Mister Smith, if you please!"

"What choice do I have?" John asked before leaning forward to press his lips to hers. When he broke away, he rested his forehead against her own and closed his eyes with a sigh, "I won't let them take you from me."

"John..."

The human Doctor pulled away from her, kissing her hand as he disappeared, leaving her standing alone and conflicted. Could she really ask a man who claimed to love her to die?

"Did you find Tim?" came Martha's shrill down as she ran over to her, out of breath and still panicked.

Grabbing her arm, Amara proceeded to lead her back upstairs while she tried to forget the price on her head. "Come on," she had to banish the thoughts of John Smith, and vexed she felt if she was ever going to get him to change back into the Doctor.

They had searched and searched, high and low, in and every nook and cranny for Timothy Latimer and Amara felt she was finally at her wit's end.

"Where the bloody hell are you?!" she exclaimed, throwing piles of paper into the air in her frustration, hitting her temple in annoyance as she wheeled around.

"But I thought you could sense it?" Martha called over to her, frightened at the amount of time they were wasting while the Family were getting closer and close through destroying the village.

Amara rubbed her head, "Not unless... it's open!" she exclaimed, allowing her feet to lead her as she took off up the stairs with little thought.

Racing through the halls, Amara sprinted along until she skidded to a halt outside the dorm she had spoken to Tim earlier in the week.

The damn room was empty.

"No!" Amara shouted in frustration, banging to door in annoyance, giving the wall several kicks to try and make herself feel better. She paused in her movements when she heard the sound of gunshots echoing from outside, drawing her attention over to the window to see the boys firing at the scarecrows.

The scarecrow soldiers had breached the gates, and all the boys were firing guns at the masses, John included as she stared from the window.

"Fire!" she heard Rocastle shouted and suddenly the guns were blasting again, straw flying everywhere as the scarecrows began to fall but more and more kept coming.

John raised the gun, steadily taking aim as his finger tightened on the trigger until something caught his eye. Glancing to the side, he looked up to see Amara standing in the window of the boy's dormitory, observing the battle somberly.

The longer he stared at her, the more his grip on the gun seemed to loosen, and then he found he couldn't bring himself to fire it, even if it was aimed at straw men. Looking to the boys, he gulped. They were _so_ young and force to fight in a war, a needless one all because of him. She had been right. When he looked up again, Amara was no longer there.

"Cease fire!" the headmaster bellowed, drawing John's attention back to the situation around them. He slowly lowered his gun while watching Rocastle as he walked over to the straw men, examining them closely and huffing in amusement. "They're straw, like he said, straw!"

"Then no one's dead, sir?" he glanced around to see Hutchinson coming to stand at his side, "We've killed no one?"

John almost flinched at the tone in Hutchinson's voice, the hopefulness that lurked there... how had he supported this farce? They were boys. Neither could he deny the sickness pooling in the pit of his stomach.

Hearing footsteps, the headmaster rushed behind the safety of the gun, "Stand to!"

Shock filtered across all their faces when a little girl with a red balloon appeared, standing in the thick smog as it cleared.

"You child, come out of the way," Rocastle called out, moving to walking to her, "Come into the school... you don't know who's out there. It's the Cartwright girl, isn't it?" he tentatively move forwards, arms outstretched towards her. "Come here, come to me."

"Mister Rocastle, please," Martha shouted as she rushed through the door with Amara following after her. She had to get them to listen to her, especially when they didn't seem to realise the danger they were in. "Don't go near her!"

"You were told to be quiet," the headmaster glowered as he whipped around to look at Martha.

"For goodness sake," Amara sighed in deep frustration, "This is a fight you _cannot_ win!"

" _Listen_ to me," Martha implored earnestly, "She's _part_ of it! Matron, tell him!"

John glanced behind him to see that Joan had also come to stand outside as well, not looking at all pleased. "I think... well, I don't know," Joan sighed, sounding awfully confused. "I think you _should_ stay back, Headmaster."

"John," Amara nudged him forwards, hoping to get him to help as well. It was a man's world after all.

Allowing his hand to settle upon Amara's back, John stepped forward. "She was... she was with Baines in the village," he affirmed, his gaze trained upon Amara as she watched him before he turned to look at Rocastle.

"Mister Smith, I've seen many strange sights this night but there is no cause on God's Earth that would allow me to see this child in the field of battle, sir," he glowered at John and then at Amara at the pair stood close to one another before turning his attention back to the girl, "Come with me."

"You're funny," the girl tilted her head at Rocastle.

"That's right," the headmaster smiled, holding out his hand to her, "Now take my hand."

Amara rolled her eyes in vexation, "Oh, he's positively waggish!"

"Mister Smith, control _your_ woman!"

"What a wazzock!" Amara persisted furiously, not caring for appropriate decorum when the man was being an idiot. "We've tried warning you – you'll get yourself killed if you don't put aside your garish patriarchy!"

"So funny," the girl repeated before reaching into her coat and pulling out an alien gun belonging to the Family.

Not wasting any time, Amara surged forward in one fluid movement to grab Rocastle as the girl shot the gun in the direction of the headmaster, pulling him to the floor as the shot buried itself within the old brickwork, causing the foundation to fizz.

"How clever," she waved the gun at Amara before gesturing to the boys, "Now who's going to shoot me, any of you, _really?"_

"Put down your guns!" John called, his heart racing at the sight of Amara nearly being shot with that ludicrous weapon. He dropped his own rifle as he pulled Amara back to him. It _had_ to end.

"But sir..." Hutchinson started.

"Mister Smith!" Rocastle coughed as he tried to clear his throat, panting upon the ground as he realised what could have happened to him if that damned, belligerent woman hadn't saved him.

"I'll _not_ see this happen!" John exclaimed suddenly as he finally took charge, changing a glance at Amara who sent him a small nod, a hand curling around his arm, her fingers burning the skin beneath his sleeves. "Not anymore... you _will_ retreat in an orderly fashion back through the school. Hutchinson, lead the way."

"But sir..." Hutchinson went to argue again.

"I said, lead the way!" John bellowed, his voice suddenly dark as he shook, breathing ragged. The longer they stayed out there, the more danger they were in... and it would mean more targets, more _boys_ to be killed and that was the last thing he wanted.

"John," Amara called out to him softly, tugging at his hand as she hoped to remind the man that she was there, to remind him of the man he _thought_ he was.

John sucked in a shuddering breath and squeezed her hand back, taking comfort in the gesture and the fact that she was _still_ there beside him to give him the support he needed.

"Go on," Baines called out suddenly, marching forward to join the fray, "Run!" he fired his gun into the air to ignite the frantic chaos once more.

"Come on!" Martha shouted as Amara grabbed John's hand and pulled him into the building with her, Martha reached out to grab Joan as they all ran for their lives.

Around them, the boys raced through the school as the scarecrow soldiers filed in behind them, multitudes of boys running through the passage in the basement leading to the stables in a desperate attempt to escape.

Pulling Amara along with him, John ushered Martha and Joan ahead as they guided some boys along with them, "Let's go!" John called out, pushing Amara in front of him, "Quick as you can!"

"Don't go to the village!" Martha asserted in her panic, "It's not safe!"

"And you, ladies!" John glanced at the three of them with intent.

Joan shook her head, "Not until we get _all_ the boys," she replied stiffly.

Glancing behind her, Amara wavered as she tried to spot Tim through the crowds before trying to run back down the passage. He had to still be there with the watch.

Predicting her movements, John reached out and grabbed her to pull her back, preventing her. "I insist... just go!" he pushed her towards Martha, his eyes pleading with her silently. "If there are any more boys inside, I'll find them."

He spun around and went to open the passage door, only to see a vast multitude of scarecrows on the other side. Blanching, he quickly shut it and hastily locked it before turning back to them again, "I think... retreat!"

"The best advise you've had all evening!" Martha called over her shoulder as she hurried Joan along, looking back to see Amara pulling John along with her.

"Ditto!"

* * *

She couldn't help but feel like a globetrotter as she found herself leading their company through the brush like a band of convicted fugitives – she only just managed to stifle her laughter despite the circumstances, and the key fact that she was still wanted for her 'supposed' crimes.

"'Mara, where are we going?" Martha called out to her as she almost stumbled over roots of trees and fallen brambles.

Amara glanced over her shoulder, not even bothering to hide her smirk. "' _Into the woods..._ '" she offered with a shrug, seeing her friend roll her eyes. " _'It's time to go, I hate to leave, I have to go. Into the woods... it's time, and so, I must begin my journey._ '"

Joan scoffed, her grip on her skirts slackening slightly at the sound of the other woman's humming, "I hardly think this is the time for song," Joan commented through a grimace, more so when she saw the faint smile on John's face.

Amara sighed as she looked out, "It helps me think..."

"What is there to think about?" Joan scoffed in outrage, blowing out furious puffs of breath as she struggled to keep up, "We run for our lives!"

"Trust me, it helps," Martha told the matron as they started to creep around the side of the school under Amara's guidance. "She can help, she's had time to learn layout of the school... just trust her."

"I'd wager I knew the layout better!"

Peering around the side of the building, Amara began to lead them across the field as Martha could hear her humming ' _Do you hear the people sing?_ ' as she pushed Joan by, John lingering behind Amara until she grabbed his arm and pulled her along.

"I don't see how singing will help us escape quickly, do you?" Joan retorted dryly but nonetheless, allowed herself to tugged along by Martha.

John huffed as they made it to the edge of the wood, "I thought it was rather catchy, actually." They'd barely gotten into the woods when Amara practically shoved him to the floor, prompting him to scowl at her disdain. "What was that for?"

Amara never replied as someone began shouting ahead, their voice echoing in a sing-song voice, "Doctor!" they called out, though it was more of a bellow. "Doctor!"

They all crouched behind some bushes and looked out over the brush to see Mister Clarke pacing in front of the TARDIS as a group of straw soldiers circled around it.

Amara winced at the mental distresses the TARDIS was giving off, wanting to run to the machine and to save it. "No..." she bit out, her eyes not leaving the box for a single moment, her eyes caressing the image.

"Come back, Doctor!" Clarke continued to shout in a rough clamour, patrolling around the blue telephone box like some glorified sentry. "Come home... come and claim your prize!"

Moments later he was joined by Baines, who lead Jenny and the Cartwright girl along with him, "Out you come, Doctor!" Baines called out into the night with a smirk, "There's a good boy. Come to the Family!"

"Time to end it now!" Jenny added in a shrill voice.

"You recognise it, don't you?" Martha looked over at John when she saw him staring at the TARDIS, the faint look of recognition alive in his eyes as he took in the scene before him. She could see it in his face, the resigned look of finally believing it had _all_ been true.

"Come out, Doctor!" Jenny smirked as she carried on, "Come to us!"

Despite that knowing what Martha had said had been very much true, John persistently shook his head, "I've never seen it before in my life," John insisted.

"But you _have_ ," Amara turned to face John expectantly, "Do you remember its name?"

"John," Joan spoke up suddenly, "I'm sorry, but you wrote about it... the blue box, you dreamt of a blue box."

But John wouldn't hear it. He shook his head frantically, "I'm not... I'm John Smith," his voice cracked slightly and Amara immediately moved to take his hand in hers despite wanting to throttle him for his persistence to ignore all the signs. John turned to her, "That's all I want to be... John Smith, with his life... and his job, and..." he gripped her so tightly she thought he was going to cut of the circulation, "And... his love. Why can't _I_ be John Smith? Isn't he a good man?"

"Oh, he's the best," Amara breathed, holding his gaze firmly as she felt the tears betraying her sense of judgement yet again. Why was she so emotional?

"Why can't I stay?" John begged her, the tears welling in his eyes.

Amara swallowed thickly as she looked at him but thankfully, it was Martha who spoke. "Because we _need_ the Doctor if we're going to survive this."

"So what am _I_ then, nothing?" he demanded, suddenly livid with her comment. "I'm _just_ a story."

Glancing between them, he got up and ran off, Amara chasing after him immediately as the jeering of the Family followed them deep into the woods. Sighing, Martha took off after them with Joan following closely behind her.

Their small quartet ran along a narrow country road, interrupted with a mix of stops and starts as they all suddenly stopped to get their bearings.

Frowning, Amara spun around her heel as she tried to make out where they were, becoming distracted when John slipped his hand into hers and drawing her attention as he tugged her along. He refused to glance over in Martha's direction, furious that she wanted rid of him so quickly so she could have her Doctor safely returned.

"This way," Joan called over to them as she continued to look around, "I think I know somewhere we can hide."

"No, we need to keep going," John shook his head, glancing around as he began to worry, wanting to put as much distance between them and the Family.

"Just listen to me for once!" Joan snapped, forgetting herself for a moment.

"John," Amara pulled on his hand and he looked over at her, jaw clenched in frustration although she was more startled by Joan's outburst than anything. "I think we should follow Joan."

Sighing, Martha nodded and moved to follow Joan as Amara pulled along a less than reluctant-looking John, hearing him mutter under his breath about something she pretended not to hear.

It didn't take long, with Joan at the helm, for the group reach a small, battered looking cottage practically in the middle of nowhere, "Here we are," she called to them as she burst through the door, intently glancing around. "It should be empty... oh, it's a long time since I've run that far."

"I've always considered myself a Paula Radcliffe in-the-making," Amara commented which earned her a smile from Martha.

Joan frowned in confusion, "Who?"

"She's a distant relative of..." Amara frowned in thought, wishing she had better control over her mouth sometimes but it was becoming increasingly difficult. "Ray Ewry, I think."

Joan went to say something else but Martha interrupted their seemingly unhelpful conversation, "But who lives here?" she pressed, glancing around.

"If I'm right, no on," Joan answered as she edged further in the room, looking around cautiously before making sure; "Hello?" she called out in uncertainty, getting no response which confirmed her assumption. "No one home, we should be safe here."

Martha frowned, "Whose house is it, thought?"

"Um, the Cartwright's," Joan affirmed stiffly, "That little girl at the school... she's Lucy Cartwright, or she'd taken Lucy Cartwright's form. If she came home this afternoon and if the parents tried to stop their little girl, then they were vanished."

Amara sighed, moving to set her hand against the side of the teapot on the table, "It's cold," she looked to Martha quickly, "No one's been here for a long while."

Collapsing with a heavy sigh, John sunk down into one of the chairs at the table with hunched shoulders, "I must go to them before anyone else dies."

"No," Amara shook her head insistently, refusing to even believe that was an option. "You can't do that."

"Amara..."

" _No_ ," she cut in curtly with a tone she found she so rarely used, having little to no reason to ever need to use it for anything. She would not let him give up like that, especially after everything. "We keep him- keep you safe..."

Joan sighed, "There must be something we can do..."

Martha shook her head sadly, "Not without the watch."

"You're this Doctor's companion!" John suddenly cried out, turning on Martha furiously as she stood staring at him, helpless. "Can't _you_ help? What exactly do you do for him? Why does he _need_ you?"

"John," Amara warned softly, not liking how he was speaking to Martha as she set her hand atop of his in a way she hoped would soothe him somewhat in such a stressful situation. Her fingers lightly stroking the skin of his knuckles to calm him, "Don't take it out on Martha."

Martha just smiled at her, knowing that he didn't mean and it was done to the situation he was in for the reason he was so agitated. "I used to think he needed me because he was lonely... and he was, lonely that is... but when I think about it now, he doesn't really need _me_ at all."

John frowned in thought, "What are you on about?"

Martha didn't bother to say anything and instead allowed her gaze to flicker to meet Amara, and it prompted him to frown and open his mouth to question her meaning when a knock sounded at the door.

"What if it's them?" Joan pressed in fear, looking between all of them.

Martha frowned as she glanced over at Amara who staring in the direction of the door with a furrowed brow, "I'm not an expert, but I don't think scarecrows knock."

Amara immediately moved towards the door, "It's Tim," she spoke, opening it in an instant to see the boy standing there, looking evidently shaken.

"I brought you this," he told her as he held out the watch for her to take from him, "I kept it safe like you wanted me to."

Smiling, Amara pulled Tim inside before sending a hesitant glance around the cottage to make sure no one had followed her, "Good lad, well done."

"' _Mara..._ " the watch murmured, calling out to her as soon as she touched Tim.

She wheeled around to see Tim still holding the watch out to her, and with a regretful sigh, she hook her head. "You know I mustn't hold it, Tim."

With another sigh, Tim turned and held the watch out to Martha instead, who unlike Amara took it from him immediately. She smiled at the warmth of the watch within her palm before she turned to face John, "Hold it," Martha insisted with a faint smile.

"I won't," John furiously shook his head as he began to back away.

But Martha was being incredibly persistent with the poor man, "Please, just hold it."

"It told me to find you," Tim spoke softly as Amara wandered over, "It _wants_ to be held."

"You had the watch all this time?" Joan frowned at the boy, "Why didn't you return it before now?"

"Because it was waiting, and..." Tim glanced over at Amara before sucking in a sharp breath, "And because I was scared of the Doctor."

"Why?"

"Because... I've _seen_ him," Tim spoke after a moment, stumbling over his words to try and rectify his deception, "He's like... fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun."

Despite having been so scared of the Doctor, Amara had changed his entire perception of the man he thought he knew through the watch. He had seen all the images of how warm the Doctor could be, how gentle... she had shown him two different men, the two men who protected the Universe. He'd seen the fun, the excitement of the man who was hidden as flashes of him invaded his mind, watching as the man bounded around the TARDIS, laughing and grinning in happiness. Protecting everyone as it should be.

"Stop it," John shook his head, moving further away from those who wanted the Doctor and not _him_. "Just _stop_ it!"

"He's ancient and forever," Tim continued as thought John hadn't spoken and moved towards the man's retreating figure, "He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the Universe."

"Stop!" John roared in outrage, "I _said_ stop it!"

"And... he's wonderful."

John looked around to see Amara watching him with soft look, tears brimming in her eyes that made him feel as though he'd been slapped in the face. Amara believed in the Doctor, and he _was_ real. She also knew that John Smith was a story...

"I've still got this," Joan's voice interrupted John's thoughts but he couldn't bring himself to look away from Amara for a single moment even as Joan pulled out his journal, "The journal."

"Those are just stories," John brushed her off weakly.

"Now we know that's not true," Joan frowned, "Perhaps there's something in here."

From somewhere in the village, an explosion resonated to create a faint quake within the cottage. Martha gasped and ran over to the windows with Joan and Tim following to see what look like meteorites plummeting to the ground.

"What the hell?" Martha demanded, rounding to look at Amara.

Clenching her jaw, she sighed. "They're destroying the village," she began to drum her fingers against the side of her temple in thought, trying to think of a suitable way to handle the situation.

"Watch..." John muttered, drawing her attention as he moved to pick it up, examining it carefully.

" _Come closer..._ " it muttered quietly.

Tim turned, noticing that John had finally given in and acknowledged the watch properly. "Can you hear it?" he asked gently, moving towards him curiously.

" _Closer..._ " the watch whispered again, tempting John. " _Closer..._ "

"I think he's asleep," John mumbled softly, his eyes intently boring into the watch as he cradled it in his hands, listening to the voice. "Waiting to awaken."

"Why did he speak to _me_?" Tim asked tentatively.

Amara smiled softly, "Well- "

"Oh, low-level telepathic field," John replied suddenly, suddenly sounding very much like the Doctor, startling Amara as she stared at him, realising that it was the Doctor speaking _through_ him. "You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing-" he stopped abruptly with a gasp, his eyes widening in shock at the foreign words as they left his mouth, having had no idea or recollection of their origin. "Is that how he talks?"

"That's him!" Martha exclaimed, getting excited.

Amara frowned in thought, "He sort of... leaks through sometimes, you can't help it."

"All you have to do is open the watch and he's back!"

John abruptly threw the watch away, backing away from it as it clattered against the wood, causing Tim to leap forward immediately while John rounded on Amara in accusation, "You knew this all along and yet, you watched while I made a fool of myself and..."

"It wasn't like we knew how to stop you," Martha spoke up, moving to stand next to Amara who was holding John's gaze firmly as he shouted at her, "He gave me a list of things to watch out for but _that_ wasn't included."

" _Falling in love?_ " John breathed out in disgust, "That didn't _even_ occur to him?"

"No," Amara affirmed softly and John wasn't sure he'd heard her.

"Then what sort of _man_ is that? You _lied_ to me!" John demanded in outrage as he glowered between the pair of them, disdain brimming within his eyes, "And now, now you expect me to die?"

Amara gritted her teeth as the explosions continued to sound around them.

"It was _always_ going to end, though," Martha argued gently with a sigh, "The Doctor said the Family's got a limited lifespan, and that's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die- "

"I believe he referred to them as mayflies, no?" Amara looked to Martha with a frown, who nodded in agreement before she smiled, "Ephemeroptera, how quaint."

"So, your job was to execute me," John glowered at Amara before looking to her, his jaw clenching in frustration. "And you were going to _let_ her."

Amara bit her lip in frustration, "This isn't about you and how cheated you feel, people are dying out there," she ground out in annoyance, wishing that he would just listen to the horror transpiring outside while they were hiding.

"They need him, and we _both_ need him!" Martha implored, glowering at him for shouting at Amara. "You've got no idea of what he's like... I'd die for him and I've only just met him," she glanced at Amara, "But I'm rooting for them, they can make it together."

"Martha, please," Amara let out a shuddering breath, gripping the edge of the table tightly to keep herself grounded. "Now is not the time for you to start 'shipping', all right?"

Martha scoffed, "What the hell is ' _shipping_ '?" she demanded, feeling suddenly confused. "Oh, it doesn't matter, does it?"

The cottage jolted again from yet another explosion, rousing Tim into another panic. "It's getting closer," he ground out, shifting nervously when the bombs felt all too familiar with the future he'd yet to encounter as Amara wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"I should have thought of it before!" John exclaimed suddenly, holding up the watch in euphoria before turning to Amara, "I can give them _this..._ just the watch. Then they can leave and I can stay as I am!"

"You _can't_ do that!" Martha exclaimed in protest, stalking towards him in an instant.

"If they want the Doctor, they can have him."

Amara sighed, running a hand over her face. "Martha's right, you can't do it, John."

But John still wouldn't listen. "If they get what they want, then…"

"If they get the watch," Amara sucked in a sharp breath, "Then it all ends in destruction... the Family would live forever, breed and conquer," she looked to see to see Joan flicking through the pages of the journal, "War across the stars... for _every_ race... for _every_ child..." she blinked away the tears in her own eyes to see John on the verge of tears himself.

Either he died or they died.

"Martha, Tim, Joan..." John turned to the three of them somberly, clearing his throat. "Would you all give us a minute, please?" at his order, Martha nodded and immediately ushered the others out.

"John..." Amara bit out, before moving to pull the broken man into her arms, hearing him let out a sob for the decision he would have to make.

* * *

She'd tried being polite and gentle, tried to ease him into the idea of the Doctor... but she was finding John Smith to be an incredibly stubborn man to convince otherwise, and she didn't want him to die because that wasn't fair and she liked him... but he couldn't come first.

Martha had to come first. Joan had to come first. Boys like Tim had to come first.

She couldn't let her own selfish desires get in the way of what John wanted and she wasn't about to let him make the wrong decision either because she couldn't do that; that wasn't part of her moral code. She _had_ to convince him otherwise.

John clenched his eyes shut, "I will not listen."

"You will, because you have no choice. We _never_ do."

"If I give them this watch…" John said, the watch in his hands as he stared at it, trying to think of a way he could survive all the madness that seemed to amplify around him at any given chance. "If I stay human… then, we could be together."

Amara refused to meet his eyes, she could bear to look at him... "We can't. We can't be human together when I'm not human," she moved to grab his free hand, pressing it to either side of her chest so he could feel both of her twin hearts beating. "I'm just like him," she nodded at the watch, "But he can _never_ know because it's not safe."

John looked to the watch with a frown, fiddling with it in thought, "And... if I became him again we could be together?" her silence told him the answer, and immediately he reached out to draw her into a hug, "He won't love you, but I do... I want to stay here with you. Can't you become human too?"

"I can't."

John sighed, "Why not?"

She swallowed hard, "The Doctor protects the Universe unknowingly, and without him... someone needs to do it with there being so many dangers out there," Amara paused sadly, "I don't have a choice. Even if I wanted to, I can't... you could always find someone else, I... I know Joan cares for you..."

At the suggestion, his eyes widened in horror before he began shaking his head profusely, "No, I could _never_ love her the way I love you... _never_ ," John exclaimed in outrage, still shaking his head. "I could never do that to you..." he could feel the tears gathering in his eyes. "I'm not real... I really thought..."

She winced before reaching out to place a hand over the one that held the watch and soon enough flashes passed through both of their minds of a future they might have shared with one another if Amara had been human.

A wedding with children, and many grandchildren... and eventually, dying of old age in bed from having lived a content life.

Amara withdrew her hand.

"Did you see?" John asked, glancing up at her in his sudden shock.

Amara nodded in agreement, "But we could never have a life like that."

"And yet I could!" John exclaimed as he glowered down at the watch.

He knew he could have children and a family... a lovely future that would be wonderful... and she expected him to give that up? But when he looked up at Amara again, he hesitated... could he give her up for that chance at a life?

"Congratulations on making me feel like the monster."

John immediately reached for again before she could even think to move away, "No, no... you are wonderful, you're everything."

"You don't understand," Amara commented quietly, "He's the important one; the Doctor is the only on who matters in this because he's the _only_ one who can help."

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, watching as his face twisted from despair to instant rage.

"All the times you stumbled over my name, as though you wanted to call me something else..." he laughed, thought it lacked humour and instead, venom seeping into his voice that made her step away but he could her shoulders, "You always meant to call me ' _Doctor_ '." John shook her, hoping to startle her into fear or to summon some answer from her and yet it didn't. "Have I ever been real to you?" he demanded, upset, "Have I ever meant anything to you at all?"

"You know you do," Amara replied, meeting his gaze steadily, "Keeping you safe is all I ever wanted."

"And yet all _I_ ever wanted was you... I've a future planned out for us, and yet, you're telling me that none of it's real... that there's not future for me, for _us_."

"There _is_ but _w_ hen you rememb-"

"No! I won't be John Smith anymore when that 'Doctor' takes my place... you will be by his side, and not mine!" he challenged furiously, his eyes maddened as his hands tightened on her arms.

"Don't you understand? You're the _same_ person!" Amara exclaimed in her frustration, "You need to understand what I'm saying to you..."

"After all this time, all the kisses and touches – was it just to humour me? Or did I disgust you, is that it? Is that why you were always running away from me?" he asked incredulously, glowering at her.

"I... no, I couldn't... I wasn't supposed to... it was for your own good!"

" _My own good?_ I do not care who this 'Doctor' is- " he never finished and instead, cut himself off by angrily settling his mouth over hers in his fury.

Her breath caught in her throat as his actions, feeling his lips feverishly attack until he froze against her, the need that had once been on his face having changed into confusion as he focused on her through the hazy want when he noticed the trail of tears having fallen from her eyes.

Instantly, he freed one of his hands to tentatively touch her face, brushing away the tears. "You... you don't want this," he whispered lowly. He freed a hand to tentatively touch her face, testing her tears as if to ensure himself his eyes weren't deceiving him.

Amara shook her head, grasping the hand on her cheek, "No... it's not me, it's you. _You_ don't want this, not really..."

"How can you doubt this?" he murmured, his eyes widening incredulously as he pressed himself against her.

Amara shuddered as she forced the words from her mouth, knowing there was no easy way to say it. "It's not you, you just _think_ this is what you want... you're going to hate the both of us."

"Amara," John breathed softly, "I could _never_ hate you, not for anything... you're the _only_ thing I have wanted, the only thing that has mattered to me this past months. How can you... how can I..." he trailed off as he pulled her to him, "I just want to be here with you... I want a _life_ with you, don't you understand?"

Amara wiped hers as she willed the tears to stop while her hands betrayed all logical thought and disappeared into his hair, "But, we do have a life, you and me... and it's a really good one, with Martha. The best."

John stared at her blankly for a couple of moments, "Do we have this?" he asked, pressing against her meaningfully, pulling her more flush against him.

Her breath hitched, catching in her throat as she tried to stay composed, "We're not like that," Amara whispered.

"Then I am a fool!"

Amara sighed, stroking his jaw softly as she cradled his face which seemed so exhausted in those moments between her palms, "When this is over, and the Doctor's back... it will all make sense, I promise... and you'll be so glad about it."

But John shook his head, tears gathering in his eyes, "I can't go back, not when I love you."

"You don't love me... not _like_ this," Amara told him softly but firmly, wishing he would just understand. "You never have... all of this, it doesn't exist."

"No, you're not listening to me. _I love you_ ," he buried his face in her hair, though there wasn't much it with it being short, "I love you..."

"It's okay..." she shifted so she could cradle him against her, slowly lifting the watch from it had been in his hand to set it upon the floor beside him, her own tears thick in her throat. "Then it won't matter... because when you open the watch, we'll still be together."

She knew he wouldn't, and it hurt so much to think that she was trying to goad John in returning the Doctor to them... regret pooling in her stomach as her guilt smothered her. Perhaps a part of her had wanted it to be true and that was why it was difficult. Up until now, she hadn't considered anything more than friendship between herself and the Doctor despite their harmless flirting.

"We'll still be together," Amara assured him softly.

"But I won't be me... _he'll_ be here and _I'll_ be gone, won't I? That's how it works! You'll get to be with _him_."

John lifted his face to look at her and she managed a sad smile, "I don't know..." Amara muttered lowly, "You _are_ him, but you're just missing some parts of _him_. You'll be you, just... more complete."

"I don't really have a choice... we won't make it out alive if I don't do it," Amara shook her head and he touched her face once more, memorising the features with the tips of his fingers, holding her gaze. "I love you, Amara."

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't suppress the tears any longer, "I know you think you do but, I..."

He took pity on her, and suddenly he was kissing ferociously, almost devouring her as he tasted her mouth, memorising it one last time as she allowed herself to kiss him just as frantically to give a dying man his last wish.

"I love you," he whispered, breath trembling against her lips. "Whatever happens, you have to know that I loved you, and it was _real_."

"Yeah," she returned, voice just as shaky. She couldn't bring herself to say it - why couldn't he just do what was required of him? "Yeah I know. Me too."

"Amara..." John whispered against her lips, a tender hand against her cheek, stroking her hair before she lifted herself off of the floor, holding his hand for a few moments as he clung to her.

Wriggling out of his grip, Amara sighed before she stopped to press her lips to his temple. "You'll make the right decision."

She exited the cottage and with a heavy sigh, slumped against the door in frustration, spent from trying to convince a good man he had to die to save them all. She looked to the side just as Martha jumped to her feet, worry creasing her brow while Joan's face seemed to contort in suppressed anger upon seeing her.

She sent her a dark look, "Why are you making him do this?" she demanded, facing the woman she considered as much as alien as those destroying the village. "You're encouraging his suicide!"

"You wouldn't understand, Joan," Amara bit out, avoiding the woman's gaze.

"I find it hard to believe you care about him at all!"

Gritting her teeth, she finally looked to the nurse with a furrowed brow and wondered if she _actually_ understood the predicament they were in because John was too reluctant to realise it himself. "I don't want John Smith to die, I don't..." her gaze fell upon Martha solemnly and she shuddered, "But we have little choice," she unhooked her necklace and tucked it into her pocket, "And John, John won't be able to decide quick enough."

"What are you doing?" Martha demanded, striding towards her while having a very bad feeling about what Amara was about to do.

Reaching into Martha coat pocket, Amara smiled softly at her friend and at the concern she held for her. She didn't intent to die, and she doubted that it would actually happen... she could become the Doctor and start burning through incarnations. That simply wasn't her. "I can give him some more time to choose, lead them away for a bit..." she concluded as her hand withdrew the sonic clutched tightly in her palm.

Turning after her, Martha could feel her panic rising within her the farther Amara got from her, "How?" she almost screeched with wide eyes.

Amara threw her a crooked smile, "You know the answer to that, Jones. Keep the faith."

The immediate interruption of the bombardment was shocking as every explosion ceased in its delivery as she ran off into the village, throwing herself over fences and gates as the shouts from the village died.

She was fully aware that with the lack of protection the sonic provided, all the Family would have to do would be to scan for alien technology and they would follow the sonic's trace, believing that she was the Doctor. But that didn't matter shed always had a certain disregard for her own life. It was a Gallifreyan thing.

Watching Amara run off and towards the face of danger, Martha could only stare in horror at how helpless she was to aid in the situation. Amara had risked her life when facing the Carrionites; she had refused to leave her side when Milo and Cheen had kidnapped them; she had nearly killed herself in Manhattan to stop the pig slaves; she had led Lazarus away to protect herself and Tish; she had absorbed the sun's energy to save everyone aboard that cargo ship and now, she was doing the very same to give John Smith more time to make his decision.

She could admit to herself that initially she hadn't been happy about Amara travelling with herself and the Doctor but that because she _fancied_ him at the time, and because she thought Amara would be a threat. She was anything but a threat. She had control attached to the woman, the way she always protected her and made sure she was safe above everyone else.

She didn't want her friend her die – _regenerate_ because John Smith wanted to stay. If the Doctor had been there, she knew he'd be as furious as she was, staring at Amara jumped over fences and into fields as the straw soldiers as begun to rush in the direction Amara had run off in.

She could stand meekly aside and let her do such a stupid thing when who they need was inside the house, hiding.

Martha could feel herself beginning to cry as she barged through the cottage door to see John in a heap on the floor, looking conflicted, as he continued to stare at the watch intently.

Upon hearing the door upon, he looked up and sighed. "Have they gone away? Have the explosions stopped?" he weakly pressed, suddenly hopeful that he could stay human. "Has the Family given up? Can I stay as I am?" his brow furrowed when he realised she was giving him a filthy look, a dark look he couldn't quite make out the reason behind. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Martha glowered at him, her hands curling into fists. "Amara's made the stupid decision to give you more time," she ground out through gritted teeth, "More time by leading them away from you... my best friend is out there helping you – she could die!"

"Amara..." his eyes widened at the news and his heart felt it was collapsing in his chest, being crushed beneath the weight of his burden, like he could barely breathe.

Martha, however, couldn't control anger and she wasn't prepared to leave until that man made the right choice, "Well?"

Looking to the watch sat in the palm of his hand, he shuddered and gulped for only a second before he flipped it open and was engulfed by the golden hue as it enveloped him in a warm embrace, a familiar hug. There was no way he was going to let her die because of him.

John Smith would have to die.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello all!**

 **So... in this one, John has grown MORE clingy to his life without giving much thought to what might actually happen despite Amara trying to convince him otherwise.**

 **Amara is very much a martyr.**

 **Martha 'SHIPS' them.**

 **Joan isn't one to partake in singing, apparently.**

 **And why is it that when threatened by aliens, no one listens?**

 **Expect confrontations in the next one - something both the Doctor and Amara won't be able to let slide so easily.**

 **The support for this story has been wonderful and it's always lovely to read your thoughts in response to the latest chapters or the story in general. Please continue to drop reviews, I very much enjoy reading and replying to them!**

 **REVIEWERS:**

 **Guest #1 - The slow burn will last a while! Enjoy it.**

 **Guest #2 - Hi! Thank you - I'm glad that I'm managing to put my own spins on things, and that Amara has settled well within the narrative. Hope you like the update!1**

 **Guest #3 - Thank you! Ha, indeed - expect more emotion to come**

 **Guest #4 - Thank you for the love!**

 **BoomBot - Hello! Martha's way too eager for them to be together, and while her intentions are in the right place, it's a bit overwhelming for 'Mara in particular. But I'm glad! John is sweet BUT confining, and 'Mara can't pursue the freedom she needs when she has to make sure he's safe. Perception Filter - set to aliens ONLY. Hope you like it!**

 **XxNimith531xX - Hello! Thank you for reviewing - I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. Hopefully you enjoy this update! :)**

 **ShadowTeir - Hi again! Thank you - it does seem that way, doesn't it? That was something I was aware of when writing it (he is clingy), and 'Mara tried her best in this one to make him see... she's not used to anyone wanting her, and so, I think that plays into their budding romance as well - a part of her wants it and a part of her doesn't. In a way, she's as conflicted as John. Hopefully you enjoy this update - definitely emotional in the next one, and Blink just makes things more awkward when the Doctor keeps bringing it up.**

 **The 'Laughing man' and the 'I die' part just sort of happened, but it works well with what's going to eventually happen - I've changed a lot of what I originally wanted to do, so it should be all right. Martha's annoying comments will be a continuation to annoy 'Mara as well as yourself - but 'Mara will set her right. I do think that Martha's intentions are in the right place, she's just going about it the wrong way.**

 **Hope you like it! :) XXX**

 **...**

 **As always thank you,**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


	17. XVI

Perhaps rushing off into the face of danger hadn't been her smartest idea or the most appropriate decision to buy John more time. The future, in all honesty, looked quite meek as she ran across the fields which made her realise she wasn't cut out for cross country. She could see the Family, awaiting her arrival as the straw soldiers closed in around her, giving her little room to breathe.

She skidded to a halt when she felt the Doctor's consciousness present within her mind, speaking immense volumes as his voice flooded her skull. John had opened the watch, having made his decision. Turning she faced the direction which she'd run from and winced.

Reaching into her pocket, her fingers fumbled around for her necklace before slipping it around her neck just as the scarecrows seized her arms firmly, holding her as four figures strolled towards her from the distance.

The Family finally approached her, all staring at her with intrigue to see someone who was _not_ the Doctor. They all tilted their heads in unison, inhaling deeply before glowering at her in frustration at having been deceived.

Letting her panic get the better of her, Amara laughed when she saw Baines's smirking face. "Sontarans!" she exclaimed in a sudden shout, causing them to frown at her in confusion.

"Is she really this thick?" Jenny asked.

"Not thick, no," Amara grinned at her, "Merely shrewd enough to conjure up a plan."

"What are you babbling about?"

Amara let out a deep sigh as she rolled her eyes, "I possess brilliant brains, not to brag but it can't be helped..."

Baines tutted softly, "Are you a simpleton after all?"

"So," Amara laughed with a smirk as she glanced between them all, "I was thinking about Sontarans... ever met the buggers? Eh?"

Baines glowered in distaste at her words, "They are inferior to us."

"Do all alien lifeforms possess this superiority complex?" Amara questioned with a furrowed brow, wondering why they all seem to share the same hatred and value themselves above others. She couldn't never understand the competition... then again, Gallifreyans were some of the most cocky ones out there, so she was a hypocrite. "Fair enough, I mean... they look like baked potatoes which is rather annoying seeing as I like potatoes very much."

Amara smirked again, finding that she felt quite smug about having fooled them into thinking that she was the Doctor through the use of the Perception Filter that was set to aliens.

"They're no fun either," Amara admitted with a frown of deep thought, "Always endless warfare. God, it can get dull."

Obviously, they had smelt the Time Lady in her when she had removed it but upon returning it, their brains believed they were smelling human once more.

"Enough!" Baines roared, his eyes practically glowering with fury aflame.

"Someone's grumpy."

She found her smirked died upon seeing the positively furious expression shared on all their faces as she was forced to kneel before them, the soldiers having kicked the back of her legs to buckle beneath her.

Running off was definitely not her finest idea.

And soon enough, she found herself being showered with blows as they were selfishly dealt to her, surprisingly so seeing as the scarecrows were made of straw but able to provide substantial damage to leave her breathless. And while she had tried to stall the Family from returning to their ship to further destroy the town, it hadn't done any good.

She had tried to fight them off as best as she could, but she couldn't reveal too much of herself and well, the straw men weren't exactly kind to her after she had gone out of her way to fool the Family.

 _Take the hits_ , her mind continued to scream at her, leaving her nothing but to hope that the Doctor would get to the ship in time to prevent the Family from doing anymore damage. She could hear him in her head, going in search for this... she just hoped he could help until she felt herself growing weaker, blackness polluting the corners of her vision.

* * *

"We'll blast them into dust, fuse the dust into glass, and then shatter them all over again!" Baines threatened as he and the rest of the Family stood gathered in their ship, awaiting John's arrival as they amused themselves through demolishing the town - there was only so many explosions that could amuse them for so long, and his frustration was intensifying the longer he had to wait for the Doctor.

That was until, he heard a clank behind them.

They all glanced over their shoulder to see John stumbled through the ship, dithering and an awkward mess, "Just..." he started forwards, tripping and leaning against the side of the ship, knocking some buttons in his moment of clumsiness. "Just stop the bombardment. That's all I'm asking; I'll do anything you want... just stop."

"Say please."

" _Please,_ " John bit out without a moment's hesitation.

Jenny, stopping the explosions as she turned a dial, eyeing John curiously. "Wait a minute," she inhaled deeply as a crude smirk crossed her lips, "He's still human."

"Now I can't..." John trailed off, trying to think of the appropriate words while avoiding the heated gaze of the Family, "I can't pretend to understand, not for a second, but I want you to know that I'm _innocent_ in all this. _He_ made me John Smith," he fumbled along as he tried to speak, knocking several more buttons in the process, "It's not like I had _any_ control over it."

"He didn't just make himself human, he made himself an _idiot,_ " Jenny scoffed in amusement as she continued to smirk, hardly believing that the man before her was supposed to be the Doctor, a feared Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey.

Baines arched a brow in question, "Same thing, isn't it?"

"I don't care about this Doctor and your Family, I just want you to go..." he stumbled over his words, earnestly staring at them expectantly. "So, I've made my choice..." he held up the watch for them to take from him, "You can have him. Just take it, please! Take _him_ away!"

"At last," Baines breathed in euphoria as he took the watch from him, gazing at it intently before reaching out to grab John by the lapels of his collar, yanking him forwards. "Don't think that saved your life..." he roughly shoved him away, and in his violent fall, knocked more buttons in doing so. "Family of Mine, now we shall have the lives of a Time Lord..." he flicked the watch open as they all inhaled deeply and awaited the sudden rush of immortality that... never came. "It's empty!"

Immediately the all rounded on him, stalking towards him in their outrage, as he gulped in his confusion. "Well..."John blinked with a gasp, "Where's it gone?"

"You tell me," Baines demanded as he launched the watch at him in his returning fury.

John caught the watch one-handedly with a sudden confidence he hadn't possessed before, "Oh, I think the explanation might be you've been fooled by a simple olfactory misdirection... little bit like ventriloquism of the nose," he rambled with a such a pace John Smith had lacked, "It's an elementary trick in certain parts of the galaxy, but it has got to be said..." he pulled on his glasses and frowned at he glanced at some gauges. "I _don't_ like the look of that hydroconometre. It seems to be indicating you've got a energy feedback all the way through the retrostabilisers feeding back into the primary heat converter... ah," with a low whistle, he sucked in a sharp breath. "'Cause if there's one thing you shouldn't have done, you shouldn't have let me press _all_ those buttons. But, in fairness, I _will_ give you _one_ word of advice... run."

At that, he turned and sprinted from the ship.

"Get out!" Baines commanded in a sudden rush of panic, "Get out!"

In their sudden frenzied hysterics, the Family bolted from the confines of their ship, running behind the Doctor to get some distance before the ship exploded, throwing them to the ground violently with a symphony of thuds.

* * *

She was roused when she felt the heat billowing around her from a distant explosion, jolting her awake, knowing that the Doctor had succeeded in stopping the Family. But as she forced her eyes open, she winced in immediate agony when half of her face cried out in pain - it was hard to blink and to open her mouth, assuming that her face was purple and blue from bruising and evidently swollen.

Thankfully, the scarecrows were nothing but cindering remains.

Forcing herself up, Amara wheezed when she was greeted with unbearable pain, causing her to fall pain and wince. She need to get moving but with the aching infecting her body, she doubted it would be plausible until she could properly stand. Her limbs felt like they were jelly, uncontrollable and lacking all the stability she was used to.

"Miss Lambert!" a shrill voice called out to her as she rolled over onto her front to see the faint figure of Tim running over to her, a mask of horror evident on his young face. "Are you hurt?!" He glanced over her briefly, the crease in his brow deepening as he saw bruises and welts across her body, blood in places - he was unsure of the extent of her injuries. "I must get you help!"

"Tim!" Amara called after him, causing the boy to turn back in an instant. Bracing herself on her knees, she coughed to clear her throat. "I'm fine... just help me up, will you?" she held out a hand to her, coaxing him back over to her gingerly. Being quite small, poor Tim struggled to help the woman balance as she clambered back to her feet unsteadily, laughing. "Just a bit battered... nothing to worry about."

"We need to get you to the Doctor," Tim spoke as he began leading her away.

Amara grimaced at that, "Lead the way, young sir."

Hobbling along, she tried not to put most of her weight onto the small boy as they eventually made it back to town to see the village in utter chaos, half destroyed from the onslaught of attacks. Buildings stood half-demolished, wheezing from flames while shouts continued to echo through air, men rushing by with buckets in an attempt to tame the fires.

Total madness caused, yet again, by the Doctor.

"Help!" Tim began shouting when his eyes fell upon Martha from where he could see her helping Nurse Redfern at the very centre of the town, "Help! We need help!" he bellowed pleadingly, hoping to draw someone's attention to them as he guided her through the village, steadying her when she tripped over her own feet.

Amara sighed softly, trying to get her eyes to focus properly but failing, and settling for the blurriness. "I don't need a 'mayday', I'm not dying... I am perfectly fine," Amara assured him, moving to push off from him so she could walk independently only for her knees to buckle beneath her in an instant, "Spoke a bit soon..." she winced with a frown before glancing at her feet, "It's a very simple movement, chaps; right foot, left foot..."

Pulling at his hair in frustration, Tim glanced around frantically to see Mister Smith, the Doctor approaching Martha and embracing in her a tight embrace, spinning her around. Looking back at Amara, he winced and started forwards slightly as he clasped his hands around his mouth: "Martha!" he began shouting profusely, hoping to get her attention.

Behind him, Amara laughed and let herself fall back on the grass, finally giving herself up to defeat. "Tim, don't be silly. I'm fine," she tried to reason with the boy, seeing him obviously spooked by her sudden weakness, but he didn't seem to be listening to her.

"Martha!" Tim continued to shout across the town, ignoring Amara as she moaned in her annoyance on the grass. When the other woman couldn't seem to hear him, he started rushing of towards the centre where she was stood, letting his feet carry him with little thought until he came to a halt, bending over to regain his breath. "Martha..."

"Tim," Martha frowned at the boy in front of her, setting a hand on his shoulder as she removed herself from the Doctor's arms. "Is everything all right? What happened?"

"It's Amara," Tim bit out with a shallow breath.

At the mention of his other companion, the Doctor's eyes widened in panic. "Where is she?" he demanded, practically shaking Tim by his shoulders. "What happened to 'Mara, Tim!"

Letting out raspy breaths, Tim nodded. "She was attacked by... the scarecrows Jeremy made..."

"Where!" the Doctor shouted, his eyes maddened.

Tim didn't reply and instead, just took off running with the Doctor and Martha following close behind in their own panic, the Doctor rushing past him when he caught sight of her lying on the grass with an arm lying across her brow, chest heaving and muttering.

"'Mara!" he found himself exclaiming as he dropped to his knees beside her, reaching out to immediately begin checking her over as Martha reached them and pushed him out of the way to start doing it herself, glancing at the Doctor to make sure he was out of the way entirely. The last thing they needed was the Doctor finding out about Amara, and she figured neither of them would fancy explaining a pulse that belonged to two hearts.

Feeling a presence beside her, Amara smiled slightly, "Saint Martha Jones..."

Looking up at Martha, the Doctor persisted in his worry, "'Mara?" he bit out, shaking her slightly but also being mindful of her injuries before letting out a sigh of relief when she looked to him. "What were you thinking?"

With another faint smile, Amara forced something cold into his palm and Martha's eyes widened when they both saw the sonic lying there. "They thought I was you... which was my intention," she smiled some more, wincing as she struggled to sit up. "For bags of straw, scarecrows give a pretty good fight..."

Not giving the action much thought, the Doctor immediately reached out to pull her into his arm, mindful of her wounds before rising to his feet with the intention of having Martha see to her in the med-bay in the TARDIS - he wouldn't have her risking her life for him so senselessly again. He couldn't stand it.

* * *

The faint drizzle of rain touched Amara's cheeks as she and Martha stood outside the TARDIS, having found little shelter from the rain but unlike Martha, she couldn't will herself to go inside. Not after everything that had happened between herself and John Smith - she had barely spoke a word to the Doctor.

She hated it there at Farringham, had hated it since the very day they arrived, and yet most of all, she found she'd hated not having the Doctor there with them. It wasn't the same with John Smith, and yet, she didn't hate John Smith. She found she rather liked him, and that she would, despite herself, miss him.

She would miss John Smith.

But she had missed the Doctor as well - the man who was quickly becoming on of her favourite people to have ever had to the chance to rekindle a friendship with (obviously, unknown to him). She had missed seeing his manic grin and his famous pinstriped suit with his 'sand shoes' that were practically falling to pieces from all the running they did. She missed his catchphrases... he rants and ramblings... everything.

And yet, she would miss John Smith more. John Smith had given her something she had forgotten, something no one had _ever_ given her.

"Are you all right?" Martha asked suddenly, sensing the unease coming from her friend.

"I'm going mad, Martha."

At her words, Martha frowned. "What'd you mean?"

Amara laughed bitterly as she looked to the ground, "I miss a man who didn't even exist... I told you it was bad idea. I shouldn't have let John do those things, and I should have never given in to him either," she ran her hands through hair in panic, huffing in vexation. "How am I meant to look him in the eye?"

Frowning, Martha followed her gaze to see the Doctor approached and she blanched. Perhaps trying to get them together would be a lot harder than she originally thought when Amara was so hell-bent on being alone for the rest of her life.

As he strolled over to them, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and she took a sharp breath. He was silent and it was uncharacteristically out of character and she didn't like it one bit to see him look so rigid. He would be rattling to them as he neared, shouting and boasting his arrogance but he was very much silent.

Amara could picture herself hugging him in victory, but instead, she stayed frozen to where she stood, her fingers clasped together tautly.

"Is is..." Martha cleared her throat when her voice broke, before trying again. "Is it all over?"

"It's over," the Doctor affirmed with a gentle nod and Amara felt a sudden rush of emotion at the sound of his voice. "The Family have been handled, and they won't hurt anyone ever again."

Martha's brows perked at his words, "What'd you..."

"I took care of them," he repeated, his voice more firm as Amara stiffened slightly and her eyes remained glued to her hands as they clawed at one another.

"So, um..." Martha frowned as she stumbled out her sentence, finding herself intrigued. "I mean... d'you... um," she looked up at the Doctor as he set a firm hand on her shoulder, making her stop immediately but he let go and nodded.

"'Mara?" he pressed softly before turning to blonde and reached for her hand, gripping it firmly, and if he noticed her filching, he pretended to ignore it.

Amara ducked her head in response, "How much of it do you remember?" she wondered with a quiet voice, biting down her lip to stop herself from screaming, "Do you remember being John?"

"A bit," the Doctor admitted with a shrug, "Weelll, I say a bit... I can remember most of it, but that clearly and it's a bit fuzzy and it's like a dream, really. Not _that_ well," he frowned in thought, his hand tightening around hers before falling limply at his side. "I don't know."

She nodded, shivering at the coolness from where his hand had been. "A dream," she echoed with a soft look, though she knew he remembered _everything_ , the gesture had given that way. _What a liar_.

"Right, well," the Doctor smiled up at them, "Molto bene!"

"So," Martha cleared her throat as she looked between the pair of them in slight amusement, "How was Joan?"

"Time we moved on," was all the Doctor said, rather sullenly.

Martha crossed her eyes, "If you want, I could go..."

"Time _we_ moved on," he repeated firmly, smiling at Amara briefly before looking to Martha again. "And I never said thanks for looking after me," he reached out to pull her into another tight embrace, grinning wildly.

"Doctor! Martha!" Tim called out, rushing to meet them before it was too late. "Amara!"

Wheeling around, the Doctor beamed when he saw the boy. "Tim-Timothy-Timber," the Doctor greeted.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," he told the three of them politely, "And thank you, because I've seen the future and I now know what must be done. It's coming, isn't it? The biggest war ever."

"You don't have to fight," Martha commented dryly.

"I think we do."

Amara's brow furrowed, "But you could get hurt..."

"Well, so could you... travelling around with," Tim fired back though it was aimed more at Amara than Martha, knowing that she was more prone to putting herself in the face of danger to save others. "But it's not going to stop you."

Amara couldn't help but smile, "Touché."

Reaching into his pocket, the Doctor withdrew something before grinning at Tim. "Tim, I'd be honoured if you'd take this," he moved to toss him the fob-watch.

"I can't hear anything," the boy commented as he glanced down at it intently, frowning in slight confusion.

"It's just a watch now," the Doctor informed him curtly, offering him a small smile. "But keep it with you," he added cheekily, "For good luck."

"Look after yourself," Martha stepped forward to pull him into a hug, pressing her lips to his cheek and giving him a grin before moving to step inside the TARDIS.

"Amara, I have something for you," Tim called out to her as he withdrew a book from under his arm with a smile, offering it to her. " _'And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath.'_ "

She grinned at the quote as she moved forward to approach the boy out of interest, "Oh, Othello... the love of my life, where have you been hiding?" Amara smiled widely before she tousled his hair kindly, taking the book from him and laughed. "' _But words and words; I never yet did hear, that the bruised heart was pierced through the ear_.'"

"Open it," Tim urged with a small smile.

Doing as she was told, Amara flicked the cover open and her brow furrowed softly in slight confusion. "' _Just listen'_..." she wasn't too sure what to make of those words or their significance. Looking up, Amara frowned at the boy. "I'm missing the point, aren't I?"

"I saw a man," Tim explained softly, giving the words four taps of his forefinger. "He told me the book was your favourite, and that you would know it was from him because he gave it to you as a gift the first time... but you lost the copy because of a tragedy."

Eyeing the boy, Amara couldn't help but fear what Tm had said. It couldn't be. "Who was this man, Tim?" she had a feeling she knew who the man was, but she didn't _want_ believe the words or that he'd been there...

"He never said his name."

"Right, well... thank you very much for the thought," Amara nodded and gave him a swift kiss to his cheek before stepping back to disappear through the TARDIS doors, slightly unnerved by the book hooked under her arm as she left the boy there with the Doctor. "I'll see you around!"

"You'll like this bit," the Doctor sent him a playful wink, moving to slip inside the TARDIS.

Moments later, the blue box disappeared.

* * *

She had enjoyed the small trip the Doctor had made, allowing them to see Tim in the future and having lived a full life he'd always deserved - a brilliant reward for the three months of hell they'd spent at Farringham, and it was a sight Amara doubted she would ever forget any time soon either. However, once that was over it didn't take long for her worry to return.

As soon as they had returned to the TARDIS, the door shut with a sombre clang of finality that made Amara cringe. The Doctor ventured straight to the console, not sparing Amara a single glance as she leaned against the Y-beam.

Martha sent her a sympathetic look, setting a hand on her arm. "If you need me, shout..." she murmured lowly so only she could hear.

"There'll probably be quite a bit of that anyway."

Watching as Martha strode away, Amara found it hard to suppress the sickening feeling rising within her stomach... because she couldn't bring herself to stop him, because she let him. She'd failed at keeping the Doctor grounded.

Despite their ambitions, she was still chilled by the fate of the Family at the Doctor's hands.

She had found their punishments cruel. Having craved immortality, the Doctor gave it to them as a torture for eternity. "Mother of Mine" dropped into an event horizon, "Father of Mine" bound in unbreakable chains and falling into infinity, "Son of Mine" frozen in time as one of the scarecrows he'd created, and "Sister of Mine" forever trapped in mirrors.

She would be lying if she hadn't been shocked, if it had shocked her. She wished he had just killed the Family in that explosion, for that would have been far kinder. She refused to watch as he did so, refused to witness his actions... refused to see the man born in war.

That wasn't the man she'd agreed to travel with.

Turning away from the controls, Amara had chosen to start along the hall leading to her room, hoping to bathe and rid herself of the sweat and dirt she was covered in seeing as it wasn't appropriate enough for her to opt for a healing coma.

She had no chance with the maniac dancing about.

"'Mara..."

She paused at the quiet use of her name, "Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw those dark eyes trained upon her. "For what?"

"You know what for."

Amara was silent for a few moments before she spoke again, "Not for your treatment of the Family, I take it?"

"No," the Doctor managed softly, "Not for that."

"You know, we could still rescue them..." Amara sighed in contemplation, perhaps she was too kind for her own good... she wasn't too sure. "We can still imprison them, if you want, let them live out their last few weeks- "

The Doctor's jaw clenched hard at her comments, his rage barely concealed. "They deserved it, 'Mara. You know that it was because of them that I... they got what they wanted."

"Did they?"

"Yes!" the Doctor fumed, throwing his hands up into the air in outrage. "Why can't you understand that? This is what you do! You don't listen, and run into the face of danger - you put yourself in danger for what? What did that _achieve_?"

Amara frowned, "It was to give the other... you more time."

"I don't want you putting yourself in danger for me! I don't want you dying because of me!"

She rolled her eyes, "You're being dramatic."

"You've put yourself in danger so many times - Shakespeare, on New Earth, with the Daleks and Lazarus... and on that cargo ship," he bit his lip as he trailed off, swallowing hard. "One day you'll die, and I won't be able to save you from that! You have no idea what it's like to watch, helpless, as people you care about willingly throw their lives away when you've lived so selfishly!"

"You'd be surprised."

The Doctor let out a ragged breath, "'Mara..."

She so desperately wanted to press matters, wanted to ask what he intended to say. But she found herself too afraid of the answer. She had messed up, she had ruined everything. She couldn't even stop him.

She didn't want his apology.

She chosen against it and met his gaze, "About the other... thing, I... I know it didn't..." Amara cleared her throat thoroughly, hating that she was stumbling over her words. "You weren't yourself and... I don't want to talk about it."

The conversation was done and all she wanted to do was take a long bath and try to forget everything that had occurred in the past few months. She found she didn't even care if he let her stay or let her go.

"'Mara..." he called after her, but she ignored him and continued walking.

She could see herself drowning in her bath if she wasn't careful.

* * *

 _Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. So, so, so wrong._

She had been put in charge of making sure nothing got out of hand with the Doctor... and John Smith, John thought he was in love. She knew she should have continued to make up excuses, to evade his advances and to not let herself be seduced.

Throwing her head back, she clenched her eyes shut and let her head fall into her hands. The cluster of nerves in her left shoulder felt like they were screaming, crying out in pain... she wasn't cut out as someone in hiding. The Doctor was making it so increasingly difficult.

 _What a failure._

And while John hadn't wanted to die, she found she missed his ditherings the more she looked at the Doctor – the most severe John's death imploded her chest.

It was when the unexpected rapping of knuckles against the wooden door had her sitting upright, the water in the tub sloshing as she eyed the shadow beneath the door.

"'Mara?" came the Doctor's soft tone through the other side of the door, knocking again, "'Mara, I need to talk to you."

Resting her head against the bath, Amara settled into the steam with thought. "Can't it wait, Space Cowboy?" she clenched the rim of the bath, her knuckles glowing white as she awaited his reply.

"No," he finally spoke, his voice suddenly panicked. "It can't wait, 'Mara," and with that, he shuffled away from the door.

Amara stared into nothing. She didn't want to talk about it. She could feel tears brimming in her eyes, and while she tried to rapidly clear her blurred vision, she found herself suddenly angry. At herself for crying, and for him persisting. Part of her wished she hadn't said "yes" at Torchwood, and part of her wish she'd run. Run far away from the Doctor...

A sob escaped her before she could stop it, clasping a hand over her mouth to try and muffle the sound that would undoubtedly travel through the door. She could stop it; it was rising up within her so quickly. _TEARS! Damn the blasted tears..._ she feared they would never end, never-ending, sprouting and dropping into the bathwater like drizzling rain.

She found it hard to breathe the more she muffled the sound, the more strangled the sounds bounced off of the walls. She hated emotions.

"'Mara?" the Doctor was at the bathroom door again, trying to twist the doorknob. "Are you all right... 'Mara, open the door..."

"No," Amara managed, raspy.

"I'm coming in."

She went rigid when she heard the sound of the sonic. "Don't you even think about it!" she shouted, flinging herself over the edge of the tub, toppling onto the floor. "I swear to God if you come in here, I'll lay into that pretty face of yours... don't you dare!" she rolled on her back, her naked back settling on the floor as she continued to shout. "Don't you dare think about coming in here!"

All sounds of the sonic screwdriver died.

She knew he was still stood there, outside the door and waiting, waiting for her but the doorknob didn't twist again. Amara let herself collapse against the floor, growing sluggish with the heavy burden that was awaiting her.

Soon enough, she exited the room wrapped in a thin towel, her hair hanging around her face, a damp mass of curls but with dry eyes. _Why a TOWEL?!_

The Doctor was sat waiting in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, his hands hugging one of the many forgotten books on her bed. She couldn't tell what one it was, probably because she didn't care. His shoulders were cowed, and he looked tired... lacking the energy and spirit that was usually so familiar.

His attention was completely focused on the book before him and she sighed, "Right, well... here I am," Amara spoke up, not liking the silence. "Well?"

"I wanted to say... I _needed_ to say I'm sorry," he muttered, not raising his head to look at her at all.

She knew that it wasn't true – it hadn't been his fault, that was ludicrous in itself for him to believe that. It was her who should be sorry. She had made the mistake, too many mistakes.

Each second she chose to not speak, the words catching in her throat, she saw his shoulders fall inward as if the imaginary weight was increasing. She couldn't say she was sorry because she was sorry that she had _wanted_ to kiss him, and she couldn't bring herself to admit that to him.

"I wish you would stop apologising."

His hands clenched around the book, and he nodded solemnly as he understood. His eyes finally shifted from the book in his hands to fall upon her bare legs, his eyes trailing up further, resting on her throat momentarily before meeting her eyes.

Immediately, he set the book aside that it made her step back and he froze, fixing her with a look that she couldn't quite make out, and he started towards her, cautiously and she didn't know what to expect.

Eyeing him, she watched as he peered down her neck, whipping out his sonic. "What is that?"

Amara's brow quirked, "What are you on about?" she watched him with a confused gaze, wondering what he looking at.

Shuffling closer to her, he pressed a fingertip to the side of her neck, frowning deeply. "Bruising... here, and here..." he murmured softly.

Her hand flew to her neck, hiding the marks as she stared at him with wide eyed and she could feel the heat flooding to her face. _Damn John Smith!_

He moved to sonic towards her and she slapped it away in her annoyance, "Love bites! Bloody love bites!" she exclaimed, feeling the lump of the bruise. Had John really done that? _Of course he had! The bloody man never let her go..._

He stared at her confusedly for a mere second before he stepped away hurriedly, panic spreading across his face, and she spotted the regret there.

"Well, uh," he reached behind him and took up a small phial of green liquid. "You'll need to drink this then if..."

Refusing to remove both hands from her neck, she reached for the small phial with an arched brow. "What is this exactly?" she eyed the Doctor with a frown, though she had a pretty good idea what it probably was.

The Doctor glanced at the floor, coughing slightly. "Emergency contracep- "

"For goodness sake, we didn't!" Amara's eyes widened, stunned that he would – _how dare he!_ She couldn't believe he would suggest... but had she wanted it? Was that why she was freaking out? Because she wanted it? "But, good for you being all prepared just in case."

Her fingers clenched around the glass in her hand, staring up at him to find him watching her from the corner of his eyes. Sighing deeply, Amara nodded before moving to tip the liquid into her mouth with little fuss, wanting him to be content with her mistakes.

"You didn't have to," he muttered darkly, "I believed you."

"Figured you'd want the piece of mind."

It was silent again for a few moments as she passed the glass back to him, watching as he twisted it over in his hands... she wasn't sure there had ever been a moment of silence passed between the pair of them like the one they were currently faced with. "'Mara... thank you for taking care of me for the past two months..."

Her hands clenched the edges of her towel together, and she nodded awkwardly, not knowing what to say to him.

He watched her, waiting for her to say something... but all she could do was look back at him a blank mask of mistakes. She wouldn't crumble.

His expression shifted then, pleading with her as they continued to stare at one another – he looked weary and as though he was desperate for her to say something to make it all better. But she didn't know how to.

But the next thing she knew, he seemed to shut off his emotions.

"I... I can take you back to Jack when you're ready," he said finally, tone so low she nearly missed it but she had known they were coming.

And then he was walking away from her, and she could seeing him disappearing, walking right out the door and never looking back. She didn't want that. She couldn't live with that. She didn't want to pack. She didn't want to leave.

A part of her wanted to run.

A part of her wanted to travel with him forever.

She could see him reaching for the handle.

"Casanova!" the cry had left her mouth before she had time to realise it, and his body froze at the doorway. He turned to face her cautiously, and she stared back at him, eyes wide when she knew how it had sounded – how desperate.

She had no idea what to say.

She _needed_ to say something. Anything. Her eyes held his as he stood waiting for her to speak, his hand clutched tightly around the handle.

 _Don't be a coward, just bloody say something to stop him! Say anything!_

Her eyes trailed from his... she couldn't bare to look at them, to see the disappointment and regret shining in their depths.

She didn't want to leave his blue box. She didn't want to leave the wonderful, lonely man. After all the mistakes, why did she have to go?

"Is... is that it?" Amara managed brokenly, fury and shame rising in her throat as her breath became raspy, biting her tongue. "' _Thanks for taking care of me, 'Mara_ '... and that's that?"

The hand on the door handle tightened, his knuckles white. "You didn't want me to apologise anymore... and I don't know what else I can say to you."

"I don't want you to apologise for _my_ mistakes," she could feel her anger radiating at her core, self-inflicted because she deserved it. "I want you to tell me what you _really_ think."

The Doctor remained silent, looking solemn and conflict – she couldn't stand to see him like, and it was driving her insane. She snapped.

Grabbing the book he'd been holding, she launched it across the room causing it fly into the wall. "John Smith had so much more to say! _So much more_!"

He stumbled back as though the book _had_ hit him, his body hitting the door that stood behind him as though she'd physically truck him. His face paled, and his knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed to the floor.

"What else can I say that will help?" the Doctor demanded in outrage, "I remember everything! It's like a mental film, on constant replay in my head! It won't stop! I can see it all!" he flared darkly, his eyes glowing.

She could feel the blood rushing to her face in her own shame while he grew paler and paler with each passing second.

"I remember each and every smile, every kiss... every touch... each time _he_ asked for more, wanted more from you..." he shuddered in thought, refusing to look at her. "And I remember all the excuses you made, how you tried to evade him, so..." he stumbled over his words, pressing his trembling fingers to his face. "So he wouldn't get any further."

"I know it wasn't you, and I know that it was part of the reality the TARDIS made up, and that John thought he was in love with me..."

The Doctor cocked his head to the side as he considered her, pulling his knees up so he could set his elbows on them, hands pressed against them with a bowed head. "We can't blame the TARDIS for this," he raised his head sharply, steeling her with a fierce expression.

"I never said that, don't twist my words," Amara commented dryly, hearing the TARDIS hum slightly. At least someone was on her side. "I know... I _could_ have tried harder, my excuses were poor at best, and I could have found other ways to keep you occupied while you were John," she explained, her voice cracking. "And if you're going to take me back to Jack because I failed, I understand that but before you do, I would like a chance to explain myself..."

She never finished because the Doctor stole her breath as he stared at her with sudden realisation that seemed to be morphing in an horrified expression and immediately, he was up on his feet and a few inches from her, hands tightly wrapped around her arms.

"No, no, no, no! No, 'Mara! No, no!" he shook his head profusely, his spikes wailing as he did so. "Is that what you've been thinking all this time? You thought that I blamed you?"

"Who else is there to blame?"

His grip on her arms tightened and he stared down at her earnestly, "'Mara... what more could you have done? You tried your best to keep him safe, but you couldn't bring yourself to break his heart..." he trailed off, sighing to himself in annoyance, "I'm the one who forced you into the situation in the first place so that you felt so compelled to cross a boundary you never wanted to cross."

"No, no... I understood what I was doing," Amara told him softly, "John Smith thought he was in love with me, it's as simple as that."

He jack clenched as Amara studied the muscle briefly as he readied himself to speak. "No, John Smith was in love with you."

Amara frowned for a moment, "That's what I said."

The Doctor smiled softly, "No, you said he thought he was in love with you... but he _was_ ," she frowned at him, and he sighed. "The TARDIS creates the backdrop, _not_ emotions... that was all him."

Amara stared at him for a moment, willing herself to understand what he was saying to her and then he glanced away, feeling awkward.

She could feel the panic rising in her stomach as she continued to stare him but he refused to meet her eyes and instead settled upon the bruises on her neck. He let out another shuddering breath, "John Smith is me."

"John Smith was a _version_ of you," Amara remarked thoughtfully, "He fell in love with me because the TARDIS knew I could keep him grounded, keep him safe... but I did not sign up- "

"'Mara, you're not listening to me!"

"I am _trying_ , you know," Amara grumbled, eyeing him closely, blowing out a huff as she tucked her hair behind her ear in frustration, "Go on, get it out- "

"Just listen to me," he cut in as he buried his hands in his hair, the Doctor pulled at it in exasperation. "The TARDIS made John Smith attracted to you because it made sense to me if it was that way; she designed a backdrop that would make sense to me."

She didn't like the way the conversation was going one bit.

Amara blinked. Did he – _no. No... NO!_

"It was the safest option, someone familiar and someone who could ensure your return when necessary, I get it. That's why."

"'Mara," the Doctor sighed softly, "It made sense to me... John Smith loved you because I _wanted_ him to."

Frowning, she wasn't quite sure she heard him correctly. Reality had stopped as she processed his words. He had wanted John Smith to love her? For that one moment she could feel her hearts beating one slow, long beat in unison.

She thought she understood but it... _impossible_.

Her legs gave out beneath her and she sunk ungracefully to the floor, only just managing to keep the towel around her body as she did.

He did it to keep her safe... when he had told her there would be no backdrop for her, he ensured that by John falling in love with her she would be safe from prying eyes.

"'Mara?" the Doctor whispered, "'Mara, please..."

How could have she been so... what could she say?

She went to open her mouth several times, wanting to say so many thing but she discarded them all as soon as she tried to let them leave her mouth. A sudden wave of laughter escaped her lips instead and she immediately clamped her hand over her mouth as she stared at the distressed Doctor before her.

"'Mara..." he moved closer to her, sinking to his knees beside her so he could rest a hand on her _bare_ leg, squeezing. "You're frightening me."

She swallowed thickly and managed to weave a sentence together, her mind reeling. "I think..." she started softly, turning to look at him, "Correct me if I'm wrong... but John Smith was a safeguard for me, and if that's true, I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to live thinking you were someone else, to have loved someone the real you entrusted them to protect for it all to suddenly change."

The Doctor didn't say anything, he merely continued to stare at her with uncertainty.

"I don't blame you, Casanova."

She stared at her hands under his intense stare, feeling it burn through her skull to her very core. She shifted so that his hand fell from her knee. She couldn't concentrate with him so close, not after everything that had happened.

"I was put in charge of your safety, to make sure you were safe as John... and I knew that, and that John wasn't real, not you... but it got so confusing, and he always looked so hurt. It got _so_ hard."

Leaning over, she took a small tub of cream off of the stand beside the bed and unscrewed the lid, "And I should have stopped you, but I didn't... so, it's my fault, _not_ yours. I don't want you to apologise for _my_ mistakes," she glanced at him as she moved to rub the cream into the left side of her neck where the blue vein pulsated uncomfortably. "Don't try to make me feel better."

"Here, let me do that," the Doctor muttered, taking the circular pot from her and scooping up a small amount before hesitantly moving towards her neck, pressing his fingers to her neck to start deftly rubbing.

The Doctor sighed in his own frustration, "Look... John had the memories of being brought up in the early twentieth century, so society and everything... those pieces were constructs to make it more real in that respect. But the emotions, everything he felt, those were the parts of _me_ that remained behind."

"And the guns?" Amara furrowed her brow at him, "Despite the fact he was training children to be soldiers, you did think what he told me?" he didn't reply to her and that made her worry slightly, "Doctor..."

Shaking himself slightly, her forced away the thoughts. "The point is John was the honest parts that I can't be... he wasn't weighed down by fear of reality, he wasn't scared of responsibilities... and that made him far more braver than I could ever be."

"Don't be silly," Amara protested softly, "You know that's not true; I know that's _not_ true."

The Doctor smiled at her, "I'm all bark and no bite, 'Mara. I can make the big decisions but when it's about people, about losing them, I run because I'm a coward," he stared at her, pleadingly, as his fingers continued to work into her neck.

Her hearts were thumping away in her chest like wild things, trapped inside a cage, trying to escape. "You'll always be brave to me, Space Cowboy," she could feel a warmth rising in her chest, one that was refusing to stay buried.

He set down the cream on the bed, though his fingers continued with their work, smiling slightly when she tilted her neck to give him better access. "I'm terrified," he admitted through gritted teeth, "I'm terrified that if I can't fix this... you'll want me to take you back to Jack," he choked on his own words, beginning to babble. "I love Martha Jones and everything she brings, but I _need_ you and I'm too stubborn to admit because I'm used to be alone."

"As John, while I thought I was doing the right thing by you, it was selfish and thoughtless," the Doctor commented quietly, "I didn't want you to have to do it alone, to keep him safe without having any protection... I just didn't... don't make me take you back to Jack."

She could feel the tears welling in her again and she had to struggle to blink them away to stop them from falling so he would see, "And here's me thinking I'd failed you," she bit out, conflicted as her fingers tapped against her temple, "I have been freaking out, poor Martha... I thought you would blame me, and I thought you would take me to Jack. I thought that was what I deserved."

Suddenly he gripped her hands tightly, "I'd never, no... _never_. I want you here, travelling with me... I thought you'd hate me for coming up with a safeguard without telling you about it first, and that you'd want to leave."

She managed a tearful laugh, patting his cheek as his head rested on her shoulder, "If you ask Martha, she'd have a field day telling you how I claimed you would have to drag me out of that door kicking and screaming before I went."

"I can imagine that," the Doctor hummed.

"I promised forever."

"I'll hold you to that," he murmured against her neck, resting against her skin before straightening to jump to his feet, eyes brightly shining. "So then!" he exclaimed, though she knew it was fake enthusiasm. "Seeing as we've stuck in the same place for just under three months – well, two months, twelve days and twenty-two hours but who bothers with that, eh? Where do you want to go next? Fellspoon? Zazz? Midnight?"

Rubbing away the wetness from her eyes, she tried to smile but she couldn't bring herself to when her hearts were still _so_ heavy.

It was still bugging her.

Looking up at him properly, she smiled faintly as her head titled. "That sounds lovely, but Casanova?"

"Yes, 'Mara – already there! I know what you're thinking! You want a cuppa? Absolutely, me too!" he beamed crazily, wheeling around like a maniac. "No tea before running! I know!"

"Great... but, Space Cowboy- "

"Right, right! Maybe try and get Martha home for that dinner with her mother but before all that; we need to get some more biscuits. Just a quick visit, yeah? And then we can raid the shops, in and out - but no, we can absolutely not stay for dinner, and that's my final- "

"CASANOVA!"

The Doctor shut his mouth mid-sentence.

"Finally, I thought you'd never shut up!" Amara breathed in outrage as she collapsed against the bed, "So this it is? Now that you know I don't want to leave, you're going to pretend that you didn't tell me that you made a safeguard for me? Business as usual?"

At her words, the Doctor shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, offering her a kind smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's all right, 'Mara. You didn't say anything back and you don't have to; I get it," he shuddered, "You agreed to come with me as my mate and I swear to you, we can go on as we were before and everything will be fine."

Amara continued to stare at him as he fidgeted miserably by her door, his face turned downward in either sadness or to shield himself from her dark look, she couldn't tell.

Guilt immediately washed over her at the sight of him, and how helpless he seemed. God, she hated to see him look so upset, it was so bizarre. That having been human, to him, had been a downgrade, a disguise and yet it gave him the ability to fall in love.

Amara thought she was stronger, but nothing could give her the strength to dance around it any longer, to just forget it... and it killed her to see the look on his, looking so sad.

Somehow their eyes locked on one another, and stay that way until he's in arm's reach of her and she grabbed for his hands to keep his eyes on hers, but eventually he looked to stare down at their entwined hands.

"I'm sorry."

His squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, mouth twisting in what appeared to be a pained grimace. "'Mara, please... don't," he muttered, looking up at her in an instant.

Her faced hardened and she withdrew her hands away from him, "Don't?" she repeated in question, her voice low as she managed to steady it. Her lip quivered even though she tried to stop it, "Did you honestly just say that to me after two months of making sure you were safe, and dancing about those snotty teenagers..."

"'Mara..."

"Unlike you," Amara sucked in a sharp breath, and she knew her words would only hurt him but she had been expected to keep proper decorum for so long that she needed to speak normally for once, "I can't just switch off my feelings like you can... I'm sorry, really I am but I can't."

Before he could stop himself, the Doctor was snapping at her and then charging from the room, "This isn't about you."

* * *

The Doctor had somehow managed to keep his promise to Martha, having gotten her home so she could have dinner with her mother and Tish, something that Amara didn't think would ever happen with the Doctor's time keeping issues.

Some part of her wished Martha hadn't gone to dinner with her family. Some part of her wished Martha had stayed, just for moral support...

Their chat earlier hadn't helped at all, and even if it did, she doubted her own stubbornness would have helped to situation when she was still so annoyed with everything.

He let her believe John Smith was in love with her, when in fact, the Doctor had planned it all along... is that what he wanted? To compromise her? To make her weak?

In those few horrified moments, he reminded her of Rassilon.

But what annoyed her above all else was the fact that the Doctor was sulking with her, or at least, that was how it seemed to her. From where she was stood, she should be the one sulking and not playing peacemaker.

Males were always the more theatrical of species.

And when she found him, it was obvious he'd missed the TARDIS with how he was busily reacquainting himself with the console, tinkering and chatting away to it, cooing. "There you go..." he was ducked beneath the console when she finally came in, "Doesn't that feel better... I bet..."

"Would you like to be alone or something?" Amara called out dryly and a moment later, the Doctor was scrambling out from beneath the console to see her, in the process, banging his head with a clank in his haste.

"Ahh!" he called out through gritted teeth as he staggered upright, his hands flying to his forehead in an instant, "Ow... blimey _that_ hurt!"

Rolling her eyes, Amara moved forward in concern, "Let me see..." The Doctor bowed his head enough so that she could see but it was barely two seconds before he began fidgeting, his eyes darting around the control room, his head jerking with it. "Just try and keep still, will you?" she ground out, shoving his head back so she could see properly. "John was never like- "

At her words they both froze, Amara's hands stilled in his hair and he stopped quirking his head. After a few moments, she clamped her mouth shut and resumed checking his head while he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

She ignored his theatrical winces, and Amara moved his head again to gently push his hair aside so she could see the mark where he'd hurt himself. She rolled her eyes when she saw the skin hadn't even broken, and that he would heal so quickly when compared to a human. She doubted a bruise would even form.

Was it even possible for someone to smell like bananas? She frowned, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the smell of bananas. John always seemed to smell of tea and - "It's fine!" Amara announced far too loudly, then winced at her reaction. "Probably won't even bruise, but, uh... you should probably check with Martha to be so sure though..." her voice cracked a little at the end and his face softened.

The Doctor looked up immediately and reached out to touch her arm, and before she could even speak, he found himself hugging her, silencing any other thoughts. He rested his chin atop her head, holding her close and with a sigh, he found himself frowning. "I'm sorry, 'Mara," he muttered, almost trembling. "I really am sorry."

"I know."

"And, well... the TARDIS is your home, for as long as you want it to be, and..." he opened his eyes and pulled away from her so he could see her properly, brushing her cheek with his finger before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "The safeguard was a bad idea."

 _As was that kiss..._ Amara frowned, finding she didn't like that he had planned out the entire romance mess from the start. "As was manipulating your own DNA," she bit out, managing a soft smile to see him looking a little more like his normal self, though she found herself feeling sympathetic again and he smiled at her, trying to lessen her worry. "All right..." she murmured, biting her lip and smiling at him. "I'll just... um..." she started to move away again.

"'Mara?" he called out to her, "Thanks for looking after me again."

He had to call her back, didn't he? Why couldn't he just let her go and then they could get on with it. Now she had no choice because it was killing her inside. She couldn't help herself... she _had_ to say it. "Another thing!" she wheeled around suddenly, tapping the side of her head in thought. "So... you could change back," she blurted with a sudden finality that made the Doctor pause, "If you wanted, I mean."

"Change... _back_?" his voice echoed sullenly as he watched her with a soft frown.

"Yes... become John Smith again," she amended sternly as his eyes lit up with sudden deep thought before immediately darkening - something she couldn't recall ever seeing before.

"Yes," the Doctor gave a firm, but cautious nod. "I could."

"But you won't."

At the comment, the Doctor's lips thinned into a grim line. "No, I won't."

"Didn't think so..." Amara sighed to herself but the Doctor merely glowered with a deep frown.

"Oh, why would I even want to be a human again?" the Doctor demanded in outrage, "Really, I mean, just look at me!" he straightened himself, correctly his tie arrogantly before leaping suddenly, prancing around the TARDIS and turning dials, smashing buttons as he went. "I really _love_ this handsome face - he's clever, a bit skinny but fantastic. I really, _really_ missed being me when I was him - I mean I love human beings but come on! _One_ heart and _six_ senses! For a human, he definitely wasn't..."

"Stop it," Amara managed, feeling herself shaking slightly, braced against the edge of the console with a knuckle-white grasp. "Just... stop it."

The Doctor, who had paused and poked his head out from behind the rotor, stared at her in bewilderment. "What? What did I say?"

"What _didn't_ you say..." she fumed, spitting out the words in her annoyance, "How dare you talk about John as though he was some sort of _idiot_ when compared to you..." Amara bit out as the Doctor was rendered silent for a long moment, blinking. John had been a bit of an idiot, but that _wasn't_ the point.

It took him a moment before he was firing back at her, stuttering his shock. "Well, that's _not_ fair!" he challenged, his voice sounded more upset than angry. "It was _my_ body he took over, and in case you've forgotten, I was trapped inside my own head! For nearly three months! _Three_ months!" he shook his head profusely, almost despairing. "I'll never get those three months back! I could have done _so_ much with that time!"

"All John _had_ was those three months!" Amara argued, "Don't make me hit you!"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer but stopped himself, blinking at he took in her agitated state and stepped back slightly. He'd never seen her so mad. When he managed to compose himself, the Doctor took a careful, cautious step forward with his hands before him in surrender. He wasn't sure how to approach her.

"'Mara..." he bit out in a gentle voice, "I'm sorry... John, John wasn't _real_."

"Don't..." Amara exploded through gritted teeth, "Don't make me hit you because I will, believe me..."

The Doctor interjected smoothly, "You need to understand that he was just a construct, a creation of my own mind... John Smith was a story, that's all."

"Do you want me to hit you?" Amara rounded on him, not really knowing why she was reacting in such a way or why she couldn't control herself. She couldn't remember the last time she was this angry and for some reason, it felt good. _So_ good. "It isn't fair for you to- "

"He's gone, 'Mara!" the Doctor continued loudly, exasperated with their conversation. "I can't even say he's dead, d'you know why? Because he wasn't alive to begin with!"

She clenched her fists in her fury, feeling herself shaking beyond control. "For three months, John Smith was real and that doesn't make him any less real than you, and I feel so stupid for saying this, but for _three_ months he was real and it was nice - he was nice, and he was loved, so... so, don't you dare..."

And with that, she spun around and stormed out of the console room, leading the Doctor stuttering behind her.

She _needed_ Martha back right now to stop her from doing something she would regret, for her admitting to something that she couldn't let the Doctor know about.

She needed Martha to keep her grounded and to remind her of the good things. _Saint Martha Jones_. But Martha wasn't there, and instead she was cornered in the TARDIS with the Doctor, who at any giving point, she could see herself strangling.

She didn't know what was happening to her either, or why she was reacting so badly... normally, her decorum was something she prided herself on and yet, seeing how she had shouted at him for something so simple – it shocked her.

She didn't know that person existed anymore.

But why did she feel so strongly abut John Smith? That was the one thing she couldn't seem to work out successfully.

Marching into her room, she turned her anger on the nearest bookcase and yanked on it, causing it to topple to the floor in an instant which roused a moan from the TARDIS, making her wince. Taking her anger out on the furniture wasn't going to help either, not with the state she was in.

"I'm sorry..." she murmured, kneeling on the floor as she pinched her brow at the sudden guilt as the ship continued to hum at her.

"'Mara?"

"What now?" she rolled her neck so she could behind her to see him stood in her doorway, looking as though he was trying to figure her out as well as looking as though he was holding back from doing something. He looked exactly like John did before he kissed her... she wanted to smack herself for that thought, damn her thoughts.

"'Mara..." the Doctor repeated and her eyes dropped to his mouth where his lips rolled around her name, and she watched them, watched as his tongue curled.

"What do you want?"

From where he was, he strode over to her to lift her up into an embrace and squeezed her so tightly that she felt her feet lift off of the ground, and she could feel him smiling against her temple as his body pressed against hers. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice raspy in her ear as he set her back on her feet, but didn't move to release his hold on her, and instead seemed to pull her even closer. "For looking after me..."

Amara sighed, rolling her eyes at the excuse. "You've already said that..." he needed to stop hugging her too, John Smith was prone to hugging her and she didn't know how well she could deal with the contact seeing as she had foiled so quickly.

"I know it can't have been easy for you," the Doctor mumbled against her head, "Having to pretend to be something with him... and I know it's not in your nature to lie and keeps secrets, but I had no other choice... you know that right?"

 _If only you knew..._ Amara frowned when she felt her throat constrict, "Yeah..." she gave him one final squeeze before pulling away, hoping to give him the hint that she didn't want him to touch her just yet. She didn't want to hug him because he looked like John Smith, John Smith who had crept into her heart.

He continued to watch her as she gulped, feeling suddenly so unaware of herself that it left her unsettled.

"You don't have to say anything," Amara spoke, her throat suddenly very thick as she addressed him. "But I need to go back because I don't know if I can let myself travel with you right now, and I just..." she trailed off when she caught him staring at her with something that resembled desperation. "I don't know what to say, or how I feel..."

Perhaps she did love John, it would make sense in her mind... he was the first person since the war who had _ever_ expressed those feelings to her and she felt wanted, and it made her feel important and anything but some sort of accessory. That was it, it had been. Was she in love with John Smith? Is that why she let him do what he did? Wormed his way into her heart, and how easily she'd given into him?

It had to be.

And yet, John Smith was the Doctor, so did that mean...

Whatever it was, she couldn't carry on and pretend like everything was all right, she couldn't do that.

"I can't." Amara whispered, her trembling lower lip finally giving way to tears when she admitted to herself that a part of her had fallen in love with John, with the idea of him and what he stood for. "It's what I want."

The Doctor to look at her then, coming to stand directly in front of her. "Look me in the eye and say it."

Amara swallowed hard, looking down at the ground when she found she couldn't bring herself to do it. "You know I can't," she hated how weak she sounded, how easily her resolve had died.

He reached for her then, his hands circling around her arms until one hand met her chin, lifting her head towards him. "Why can't you look at me?" the Doctor frowned softly when he saw her eyes finally flicker up, darting across his face in a wince.

"Because I see him... and it hurts," Amara whispered quietly, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I'd prefer we go on as we were before all of it..." he announced to her, "Rather than you be like this, I couldn't bear it."

Amara rolled her eyes at him, moving to remove her hands which made his face rise sharply when she tried to release hold, steadily doing so and she looked at him with a sad smile. "I need to be alone..."

"Oh," the hopeful glimmer that had been in his eyes died instantly when her words reached him, making him freeze. "O- of course, you do... I'll just, uh..." the Doctor scratched the back of his head as he glanced around the room helplessly before stepping away and clasping his hand behind his back. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Amara stared at the Time Lord as he shuffled from the room, shoulders hunched in defeat with a bowed head to click the door shut, softly, behind him and missing her sinking to her knees at how futile she felt.

Useless. Every thing she'd worked so hard to uphold was crashing down around her in a burning wreck of failure.

She, however, felt pretty much screwed.

* * *

 **A/N: Weeeell, how was this one?**

 **Definitely awkward.**

 **The Doctor doesn't know how to sort the situation out, and 'Mara doesn't know what she's feeling.**

 **How will they come back from this?**

 **ROGER FEDERER WON WIMBLEDON AGAIN - I AM SO HAPPY!**

 **ALSO, WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK ABOUT THE 13TH DOCTOR BEING JODIE WHITTAKER?! I absolutely loved her in ' _Broadchurch_ ', so hopefully she'll do wonderfully when taking over from Peter Capaldi. **

**REVIEWERS:**

 **Guest #1 - _Aww, well hopefully they will come back during 'Blink' where the flirting returns in fully force! Enjoy the update._**

 **BoomBot - _Hopefully you enjoy this sort of confrontation, and there being a definite unsettled relationship between the Doctor and 'Mara. I hope you like the update._**

 **LoyalAsAViking - _Aww, I know! I hope you enjoy this one!_**

 **ShadowTeir - _Hi again! Well, I'm glad you liked the previous update! I'm a deep lover of musicals, and when necessary, I HAVE to slip in some where I feel I can get away with it - I think singing does help in away, like to helping with calming at least, I don't know though. We won't actually see 'Mara wrath until Utopia where she first encounters the Master, and well... that's something to look forward to. Hopefully you like the confrontation that hasn't established a saved friendship - it's definitely going to be more unsettled and edgy from this point on._**

 _ **I'm glad the cottage scene got that reaction - 'Mara's been void of emotion like for so long, that I think it was a new lesson for her as well, while she tried to convince John to do the right thing. You're right; she doesn't think the Doctor loves her in anyway or thinks or her in any other way but friends. She's terrified of Martha's taunting because no one's ever felt like that for her before... the Doctor definitely didn't let their situation go, and they're still walking on egg shells. I have read it - it's wonderful, right? I love the story!**_

 _ **Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy the update.**_

 _ **XXX**_

 **XxNimith531xX - _Hi! Oh, I'm glad you enjoyed this update - it was sort of tragic in a way, and how unwilling he was to let his life go. The Doctor does mention what 'Mara told him, and well... how she goes about the answer is to compliment her facade. Hope you enjoy the update!_**

 **MrsChaolWestfall - _Hello! Thanks for the review - I'm glad that you're enjoying the story! It's lovely reading positive receptions from the story. I hope you like this one, too._**

 **...**

 **Thank you as always,**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


	18. XVII

The very last place Martha wanted to be with the Doctor was in a large, abandoned house somewhere she thought was London. She had tried to convince him to let her stay with Amara in the TARDIS as she kept an eye on the scanner while he investigated but the Doctor was refusing to let Amara participated in physical activities after her shenanigans in nineteen-thirteen.

When she had come back from a surprisingly pleasant and normal dinner with her mum, Tish and Leo – _even_ her dad and Annalise had turned up. And it had been nice to act like a normal family for once, and for the first time in a long while it felt like her old life was back.

Until, of course, she had wandered back into the TARDIS where she was met with World War Three – the poor console room had been in a disastrous state with tools strewn everywhere in sight, other alien instruments lying all around.

The Doctor had been in a manic state when she'd found him, bumbling under the console and muttering to himself – and she'd know that it had been down to Amara, though she had no idea what had gone on between the pair of them.

She didn't see the woman in question for at least a couple of hours, and that had only been in passing. And their mutual sulking hadn't lessened since then either – two aliens refusing to come to a mutual understanding that they would never just be _friends_ anymore.

But still, as she stood staring at the building, paint peeling and chipped, the sign ' _DANGER KEEP OUT: Unsafe Structure!_ ' gave her all the warning she needed to know that it wasn't some place she wanted to be. She was all for alien planets and travelling through time but no rural, rustic houses frozen in time.

Just... no.

"Hmm," the Doctor frowned to himself in thought as he pointed his sonic screwdriver at the gate, a sudden wheeze echoing as the gates soon feel open as if on their own accord.

A chill ran up her spine, and not in a good way. As a kid, she'd loved exploring through old houses with her friends but after everything she'd seen, the same thrill was no longer there. Not when she really thought about it.

With another sigh, the Doctor started forwards with a less than reluctant Martha at his side. "Must be something here. Come on."

The house interior was just as neglected as the exterior with cobwebs covering almost everything in sight as well as a thick layer of dust, light shining through the windows to cast strange shadows on the walls.

"Anybody home?!" the Doctor called out with a crooked grin, striding around. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer.

"I don't think anyone's been home for quite a while," Martha commented, running her hand along the bannister, wiping the dust from her fingers in disdain.

To her immense glee, the house was unlocked and in an appalling state with beer bottles strewn all over the place, chandeliers were draped over dusty old tarpaulins and cloth on the floor, forgotten. On the ground floor, there were sparse pieces of furniture lying around while the wallpaper in the rooms were all torn halfway as though someone had tried to rip it off.

Shivers ran up Martha's spine at the mere sight, wanting nothing more than to leave. She jolted when her phone began ringing, pulling her out of her thoughts as she answered and put it on speaker, " _'_ _Fools build houses, and wise men live in them._ '"

Rolling her eyes at Amara's voice, Martha scoffed in her uneasiness. "Shut it, Ghandi." The house might have once been beautifully animated but now it stood worn... and dead. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet and the plaster from the ceiling above had begun to crack, collecting on the ground in a thick dust.

"Look at this!" the Doctor grinned.

"It's just... a house?" Martha pointed out with a laugh, scuffing her feet.

" _Saint Martha, watch your tone_ ," Amara chuckled from the other end, typing echoing through the line as she continued to speak. " _How's shopping for your new dream house coming along?_ "

"Ha ha," she replied dryly before looking over to the Doctor earnestly. "Why are we here Doctor?"

"I told you," the Time Lord replied tersely as he glanced around in thought, "The TARDIS, y'know the TARDIS right? Well, that big blue box of mine picked up a temporal disturbance with its trace leading to here."

Amara hummed smugly from the phone, " _In short, we – well,_ you _should probably check it out to be safe._ " There was a long pause before she next spoke, " _But old houses are great!_ Full _of history and memories... you may think it's abandoned but it's probably full of unforgotten life!_ "

Martha glanced at the Doctor to see him beaming brightly, having shoved his hands into his trousers pockets, obviously forgotten that he was supposed to be angry with her. "Well said!"

" _Oh, so you're talking to me now?_ "

"Not this again..." the Doctor groaned in frustration, "I wasn't ever not talking to you anyway."

Amara scoffed, " _You were sulking with me._ "

"And you weren't?!"

"All right, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum," Martha brushed off with an eye roll, "You call this a trip?" Martha asked as they wandered through the basement, trashed and full of dust as its only occupant.

" _Well, zionks!_ " Amara chuckled from the phone, " _Velma and Daphne are scared! Though, I'd say that wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea when facing the unknown-_ "

"It's not that bad!" the Doctor interjected smoothly, flashing Martha another before frowning. "So, which one of us is Velma and Daphne?"

" _Well, you're the handsome one_ ," Amara remarked dryly the distant echo of typing drowning out her voice slightly, " _I figured you and Daphne have that in common, Space Cowboy._ "

"So, I'm a woman?" the Doctor bristled while Martha laughed, "Ridiculous..." he mutter, walking around until his eyes fell upon a garden with a quartet of statues, hiding their faces as they seemed to weep. "What about time travel without using the TARDIS, eh?"

"Can't say I have..." Martha frowned, not sure what he was getting at as she watched him wander, knowing something was going on and that he didn't plan to tell her about it. "What's going on?" she asked, though it was more to Amara than the Time Lord. "What are we looking for exactly? What does a temporal disturbance look like?"

"Hmm..." the Doctor hummed in thought, "Could be anything."

"Well, I definitely didn't see a supernova in the basement," Martha commented dryly, hearing Amara laugh over the phone as she spied a stone statue through the window, "Or a black hole at home in the kitchen cooking dinner..."

"What?" he glanced at her with a frown, obviously not following.

Amara sighed, knocking something that roused a shout from the woman and a pointed look from the Doctor, " _Martha, I think we would have seen that on the scanner..._ " she explained softly, her voice raspy. " _You're going to have to rummage around to try and find it, the scanner's still coming up blank._ "

"It's got to be something simple."

Above everything, Martha wished Amara was there with them and not confined to the TARDIS by the Doctor because she was so prone to acting reckless, and that he trust her with her own safety. And well, then Wester Drumlins had appeared and the Doctor being the Doctor wanted nothing more than to explore the blasted house seeing as Sally Sparrow had told him about in the purple folder.

Due to the Doctor being adamant that Amara wasn't to leave the TARDIS, her so-called friend had suggested that SHE go with him to explore the damned house despite being sour about it. Naturally, the pair had argued because Amara wanted to go but the Doctor had refused and claimed that the disturbance would only get worse the longer that they waited which seemed to only annoy Amara even more than she was already. He had argued that the best thing was for her to stay in the TARDIS so he didn't have to worry about her safety which had, of course, offended Amara insanely.

And that's when she'd suggested that he should take Martha with him to keep a look out and make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

Miserably, the Doctor had agreed but he had been in a foul mood ever since leaving the TARDIS, and that's why Martha had decided to keep Amara on the phone, hoping to cheer him up.

Staring at him, Martha wondered if he'd even considered using the sonic that was in his hand other than for show. "Well, just use your sonic then? That's as simple as it gets, right?"

"Oh, Martha Jones..." he flashed her another grin, kissing the sonic in his hand. "You're a star!"

Amara was laughing at the Doctor's expense again, something that made Martha smile. " _And that is why Martha's Velma... at least one of you has logic_ ," she remarked coolly, " _Good thing I made her go with you, really. You'd be hopeless by yourself_."

"Oi," the Doctor feigned a hurtful expression as he used the sonic, the device beeping erratically when he waved it over a doorway.

Following the trace, they entered a room in which the walls were torn as though it had been savaged by wild animals, strips hanging left, right and centre. The Doctor immediately halted when he caught sight of the message painted on the wall in which the wallpaper had been hiding.

 _'BEWARE THE WEEPING ANGEL! OH, AND DUCK! REALLY, DUCK! SALLY SPARROW DUCK, NOW! LOVE FROM THE DOCTOR, MARTHA AND 'MARA (1969)._ '

"Doctor..." Martha bit out when she saw him grow rigid. "Did you write that? Because I definitely didn't..."

"That's because we haven't..." he explained steadily as he whipped out the folder he'd been keeping hooked under his arm from Sally Sparrow, not letting go of it until he had properly investigated... recognised that it had been the blonde's name on the wall.

But the message...

The Weeping Angels. The statues in the garden.

" _What writing?_ " Amara asked, sounding hopeful from the other end of the phone, sighing in her apparent boredom.

"From nineteen sixty-nine."

Amara hummed in thought, " _Sally Sparrow?_ "

"How did you- " Martha cut off when she saw the Doctor moving about restlessly. "Doctor?"

He moved towards the nearest window and winced when he found the garden very vacant and deserted apart from one lone statue. "I'm going to look around," the Doctor declared before striding out of the room without another word to Martha. "Split up and search for clues!"

She frowned, wondering why on Earth he'd just leave her all alone with a spooky message on the wall for company, "He just walked out..." her eyes swept across the vacant space where the Doctor had been, trying to ignore the broken glass.

" _Tell him to come back._ "

Martha peered out the window and saw that the garden featured a statue of an angel, its head bowed and hands covering its eyes. "Weird statue..." Martha remarked, moving to leave the room without giving it another look to move up the nearest staircase she found.

" _What statue? Martha..._ " Amara sounded as though she was getting annoyed, her tone having grown terse from the other end. " _What's going on?_ "

Despite her initial worry, she found herself striding around a bedroom with a four poster bed, bedside tables that were oak – she guessed, though she wasn't too sure with all the dust. When she looked at the ceiling, she found the chandelier still hung peacefully, but the room lacked any personal items.

Martha shook her head dismissively when she felt something burning in her pocket. Reaching into it, she withdrew the TARDIS key and frowned. It was slightly warm – a warning?

"'Mara..."

" _At your service, Jones,_ " her friend whistled in amusement, " _Your wish is my command_."

"Is everything all right in the TARDIS?"

" _Hunky-dory as far as I can see,_ " Amara replied with a heavy sigh, " _Why'd you ask?_ "

Martha sighed, feeling her uneasiness grow within her the longer she stayed in the house, the longer she wandered without the Doctor at her side. "This is mad."

" _What's mad?_ "

"Not being funny," Martha thought with a smile, clenching her key tightly. "But you sound like my conscience or something."

" _All the better to guide you with_."

Martha cleared her throat, "So, was it really that bad when you talked... I mean..." she really wished she'd stayed in the TARDIS as moral support for Amara instead of swanning off for a family meal.

" _Bad doesn't cut it,"_ Amara sighed in annoyance, clicking her tongue. " _He seems happy enough, anyway_."

"I don't think you have much to worry about," she told her softly, "He cares about you and... where is he anyway? He hasn't come back, and I thought..."

" _Oh, he's probably busy distracting himself with some crack in a random wall, you know what he's like_ ," Amara chuckled, " _Perhaps you should go check on him..."_

Turning suddenly, her heart suddenly stopped as she came face-to-face with a smooth, stony face. Its blank eyes boring into hers as she stared, its mouth hanging open fiercely in what she thought was a scream, bearing its sharp teeth while the statue's claws were inches from her neck.

Martha couldn't look away.

"Doctor!"

It didn't take long for Amara's voice to echo from the phone's speaker, panicked and risen. " _Martha, what is it? What's wrong?_ " she demanded, her voice earnest as she began typing frantically from the other end.

"The statue."

" _Statue?_ " Amara echoed hollowly, confused. " _What about the statue? Martha?_ "

"It's moved."

Elsewhere, the Doctor had wandered off to investigate the lower floors of the house, having no clue what they were supposed to be looking for, and that made his hearts wrench with worry. Everything felt perfectly fine, normal as normal could get.

However, his sonic continued to buzz away in his hand to indicate that something was giving off wavelengths of something alien. He found that unsettling when everything seemed normal.

There was something there. The sonic was sure of it, and so was he... but what?

"Doctor!"

Upon hearing Martha's voice calling out for him urgently, he rushed to find her but he stopped in his tracks when he saw her staring at the creature with its hands outstretched towards her.

He could hear Amara talking to her over the phone, probably trying to keep her calm in the situation. He could feel his two hearts thumping in his chest, his mind already trying to find a way out and to do something to get her away from the Weeping Angel. He could hear her ragged breathing when her eyes flickered towards him, spurring his body forwards in panic.

"Don't!" the Doctor exclaimed, running to stand behind her, hands on her shoulders to prevent any more movements. He tried to steady his voice, tried to keep it calm from his own panic. _Not good. Not good at all._ "Don't blink... don't even look away for one second. I've got my eye on it, but don't blink."

"It wasn't here when I came up the stairs," Martha explained softly, doing as she was told and refusing to let herself blink, stumbling over her words. "I never saw it.

" _Just,_ " Amara sighed as beeping started to echo around her, " _Don't look away, all right?"_

The Doctor frowned, "It can only move when you can't see it," he told her, his eyes briefly scanning the room. "Weeping Angels, the lonely assassins... they're quantum locked, so they can't move while they are seen. One touch is all it takes for them to transport you to the past, eating away the potential energy of your future," he concluded in defeat, finding himself at a loss for how to escape. "I'm sorry Martha... so, so sorry."

"What for?" Martha questioned, her own panic rising within her at his words as he kept his hands firmly on her shoulders, "Tell me what's going on, Doctor!"

"I'll be right behind you, I promise," he vowed, giving her shoulders a quick squeeze as he kept his eyes on the other statues that were nearing them from the other directions, their hands reaching for them as they bared their teeth. "I can't just leave you..."

"Don't suppose you've got a hammer, have you?"

He had wanted to smile at her words but he remained focused on the Angels that were nearing them with each turn of his head, "They're living creatures, Martha," he bit out, his voice somewhat calm. "You can't kill them with a hammer."

" _Don't you dare do what I think you're about-_ "

The Doctor grabbed Martha's phone and pressed a button, shutting off Amara's voice before tucking it into his pocket, "Right, now I can think..." he bit out, feeling Martha squeeze his hand as it sat on her shoulder.

She needed to know he was there, and that he could get them out of there but if he didn't, if he couldn't... she was happy he was by her side, not alone. But she felt colder without Amara there, it felt wrong without her being there.

"What's going to happen, Doctor?"

"I'll be right behind you," he repeated, no explaining any more about the situation which only made her panic worsen. "But you have to trust me... Martha, you trust me, don't you?"

Taking a deep breath, mindful of her eyes, she didn't even have to think. "Of course, I do."

"Blink."

* * *

Martha did.

As soon as she felt something solid slam underneath her body, she gave a cry of pain as her chest ached to the tips of her toes, arms just managing to stop face from slamming into the ground as well. It was solid concrete, that much she knew.

She wanted to throw up.

"No!" the Doctor was exclaiming as he clambered to his feet, leaving Martha on the ground in the middle of a dark alley, evidently no longer in the house due to the brick wall in front of them. "No!" he launched himself at the brick wall with intention, falling back in his own anguish.

"My head..." Martha winced, rubbing it as she watched the Doctor aim his sonic at the wall. "Doctor, what the hell just happened?!"

But the Doctor didn't seem to be listening to her at all, continuing to sonic the wall until he got a reading and his eyes widened in worry, "No... take me back!" he forced his fists against the wall, "I've got to go back! Take me back!"

"Doctor Martha stumbled to her feet, rushing over to him and grabbing his arm to stop him from beating the wall and doing any damage to himself. "Just stop!"

"We need to go back," he ripped his arm away from Martha, eyes wide as he spun around. "We need to get to 'Mara."

"Doctor..." Martha started quietly, finding it rather surprising to see him thinking of her. "She's fine, right? She's in the TARDIS... she probably knows what's gone on and can come and get us..."

"She can't," he shook his head as a sad frown appeared across his brow.

It felt odd being separated from her.

He wasn't sure he liked it.

No, he didn't like it. Not one bit.

They were trapped.

Amara was alone.

"Why can't she?" Martha frowned.

"Because she doesn't know the timeline for the established events..." the Doctor in his frustration, running a hand through his hair tiredly, "'Mara's pretty much blind, unless she goes looking for us."

Martha sighed, already knowing that since the Doctor hung up on her, that would be the first thing she'd do. "Which she will," she assumed gravely which meant that Amara would be joining them.

"Undoubtedly..." he pulled out the purple folder and tried to not cry out in distress of his own mistakes, "Then we'll all be trapped here."

Tersely, he began rooting through the folder Sally had given him, pulling out notes and photos that he had dismissed as nothing.

He knew he should have done as Amara suggested when he'd first been given it; he should have sat down and read through everything carefully to make sure he was prepared for when the time came, obviously, he'd ignored her advice as he always seemed to do. He had completely forgotten about it, they were dealing with more important things at the time... and it just seemed to disappear from his mind. Out of sight, out of mind...

"Anything useful in there?" Martha asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Sally's given me the established order of events," the Doctor told her, barely sparing her a glance as his eyes scanned its contents. "If 'Mara comes back with the TARDIS, we'll all be stuck in the timeline and we won't be able to use the TARDIS to help us out either."

"Well, can't she just travel to the end and pick us up?" Martha knew Amara was capable enough when it came to the TARDIS, she seemed to know a lot about the time machine than the Doctor did and she trusted her with her life. She had faith in her friend.

The Doctor let out a huff in frustration, wishing she would listen to what he was saying to her. "Martha, I have the established order of events. 'Mara's blind; she doesn't know when that is," she wouldn't be able to find them unless she gave herself up the angels.

What made it worse was that they had no idea how long they were going to be trapped in nineteen sixty-nine for. He couldn't bear to think about it.

He leant back against the way, sighing as he rubbed his eyes, not knowing what to do for the time being.

Sighing, Martha reached into the folder, flicking through it and pulling out what looked like a transcript, her brow furrowing as she read it until she felt a grin tugging at her lips.

Amara had lines, quite a few.

"Oi, Time Lord," Martha threw him a grin as she waved the transcript at him in triumph, "Expect a reunion soon enough."

"Definitely Earth," he announced after inhaling deeply. He smiled before sniffing again, his brows knitting together. "Cigarettes... hairspray and a touch of fumes! Definitely the sixties! _Late_ sixties, that is!"

* * *

She couldn't get Martha's scream out of her head or the fact that the Doctor had hung up on her. Still, Martha Jones had screamed, and Martha Jones _never_ screamed.

She knew she should have run through those doors before he could stop – she never wanted to be left behind but he was being WAY TOO overprotective of her and it was driving her mad. He wouldn't even let her go to the bloody shop to get biscuits in the fear of her fighting with a self-service machine.

She wasn't him.

But something had happened in Wester Drumlins, she was sure of it. She'd never heard Martha sound so scared or the Doctor so unsure. Something was wrong, so wrong.

Drumming her fingers on the console, Amara leant on her elbows, conflicted with what to do. The Doctor had told her _not_ to leave the TARDIS but... "Something's up right?" she asked aloud, checking the scanner again with a furrowed brow, "It can't just be me..."

The TARDIS hummed in what she thought sounded like exasperation.

"Right..." she trailed off, feeling something swirling in the pit of her stomach, an uneasy sensation falling over her as stood, confused.

The TARDIS sighed around her as Amara began typing frantically, trying to access the TARDIS databank as soon as she was able, "Martha said something about statues, didn't she? Statues, statues... statues..." she started tapping her temple in thought, frowning. "And Time Boy said ' _don't blink.._.' because the only words he ever uses are imperatives."

The TARDIS hummed again which Amara took for agreement.

She looked to the rotor with a frown, trying to figure out what to do... the temporal disturbance had been located, indicators on the scanners told her the Doctor and Martha were stuck in nineteen sixty-nine.

Trapped in the past yet again. _Wonderful_.

"Sally Sparrow," Amara nodded in thought as she continued to type. "That's a good name, isn't it?"

The TARDIS hummed again.

"Here we go..." Amara announced to no one, throwing her hands up into the air in triumph. "The Weeping Angels, the irony! Species of quantum-locked humanoids..." she trailed off, reading through the text hurriedly. "I didn't think you could kill someone kindly, but whatever floats your boat... eradicating their victims mercifully by sending them into the past and letting them live out their lives."

"I remember now," she nodded to herself, grimacing. "They can then consume the potential energy left behind of the life someone would have led in the current time in which they are touched. How quaint. They do this," Amara covered her eyes with an eye roll, "To avoid quantum-locking, the perfect defence mechanism... so, they can't look at one another. How nightmarish."

The TARDIS hummed though it came out more like a disappointed sigh.

"Can't destroy them either, because they'll reform," she let her shoulders sag theatrically, holding her head in her hands. "Why didn't they just wink? You can get away with that... winking's not blinking. Why does no one _ever_ wink?"

She closed her eyes in frustration, knowing that the Doctor had just begun the established order of events which meant that there was absolutely no way she could the TARDIS. She could estimate, and go to the end of the timeline and pick them up but... "Why are they here?" she continued to glance around the room until her eyes stilled upon the rotor with a pensive thought of realisation. "They want you... Time Lord technology provides near-unlimited temporal energy... well, we can't have that."

Amara clasped her hands together tersely before jumping to her feet, clicking her tongue. "That means I can't use you..." she patted the rotor affectionately, smiling to herself. "We don't want you getting trapped as well, do we?"

She couldn't stay in the TARDIS forever... and with the temporal disturbance practically outside the doors, she knew she couldn't just leave the TARDIS on its own. The Doctor would murder her. She shook her head lightly as she regarded the box, "Oh, I can't just leave you though..."

She was very aware that the angels were out there, probably waiting for her. She'd never been fond of them, even when reading about them at the Academy. She didn't want to leave the box in their hands, she couldn't face that... "He'll kill me if I do that and we're already on thin ice as it is."

Sighing, Amara grabbed the phone that she'd left on the side of the console before hooking the TARDIS key into her palm, shrugging on her jacket as she pushed herself off of the jump-seat with intent. "So, my task is quite literally a suicide mission."

The TARDIS jerked, her humming having grown louder as one of the doors shifted.

"Is that a hint you want me to leave?" Amara set her free palm on the rotor and offered the console a small smile, her accomplice in crime. She knew she was the TARDIS's favourite. "I'll tell him it was all your idea..." the ship hummed softly which made Amara smile more widely. "Yes, I know... we girls must stick together."

As she pulled away, Amara tucked the strands of hair that had fallen across her face back behind her ear and sprung forwards with a grimace, "Cheers, sexy," Amara called over her shoulder as she slipped through the door, turning and locking it before moving to exit through the overgrown brush surrounding the house.

She had to dodge the Angels until she was inside the house. And much like Harry Potter, she assumed, she didn't fancy dwelling under the stairs.

* * *

Amara found she loved doorbells – the single trill that sounded with each use, rising up into the air to single one's arrival. She was always rather fond of the tiny and grating sound that drifted into the air courtesy of pushing a button.

Although the one she'd pressed let out a strangled sound that made her frown, surprisingly harsh as it cut through the air. She rung it once, twice... once more.

Several times after that.

With a doorbell, lurked temptation.

From inside the house, she could hear several, faint shuffling movements on the other side of the door and then: "What are you doing?! It could be a burglar!"

The assertion made Amara laugh as she started to whistle, "' _... There's no better time to start, think of all the joy you'll find when you leave the world behind and bid your cares goodbye..._ '" she smiled when the door swung open to meet the blonde woman the Doctor, Martha and herself had bumped into. "Hello."

Amara stood, reeling back on her heels as the other blonde woman stared at her curiously. "Do I know you?" she frowned at the woman in front of her, golden-haired, stood in cargo trousers and a dark jacket. She felt familiar for some unknown reason like she'd met her before somewhere...

"I don't think so..." Amara offered with a bemused smile, "Not yet, anyway. Besides, this is my latest face and it's not my best... the hair's a bit iffy," she scratched the back of her head in thought, before offering her hand out to the other woman. "I'm Amara, though. Hi."

Uncertain, the woman accepted the gesture and tentatively shook her cool hand.

"And you're Sally, right? Sally Sparrow?"

Sally frowned, her head tilting at Amara's words, obviously having startled her. "How do you know my name?"

"Clairvoyant, educated guess?" Amara managed a laugh as she stood in the doorway, glancing into the house curiously, "The list of possibilities is, to be frank, _endless_."

As she went to step inside, Sally moved to prevent her from stepping over the threshold. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was... I was passing through the neighbourhood... that is the appropriate expression, right?" Amara flashed a grin, before steeling her resolve and pushing by Sally to finally step inside the house, looking around in marvel. "Well, some of my comrades were here and I got a bit tired of waiting, I was never a patient person," she wheeled around to look at Sally with a levelled gaze, "Anyway, on my way here I met a rather charming bloke, actually, and promised that I'd make sure you got this."

The man she'd met on her way up had been reluctant to give the envelope to her, but true to her bartering ways, she'd persisted by saying that she was a close friend of Sally's and eventually, he'd given up out of defeat and entrusted it to her.

Sally observed her as she reached into her pocket and withdrew a brown envelope, passing it to her as she frowned. "But how could you even anticipate that I'd be here? Today?" Sally turned the envelope over in her hands. She hadn't even known that she was going to be a Wester Drumlins, or that Kathy would have agreed to go with her.

Amara grinned, "A lucky guess?" she ran her hands along the bannister and sighed, "This house is fantastic... so rustic, and yet full of life..."

Sally was too busy examining the envelope closer, finding herself intrigued at who would be sending a hand-delivered letter to her of all people. "This looks old..."

"Oh, it is," Amara nodded in agreement as she continued to wander along, "Eighty-seven years if you want to be _really_ precise about it."

"Wait... hold on..." Sally rushed to follow her, having no idea why the woman was in the house or what she planned to do there. "Wait, how _did_ you know I was coming here today?" she followed her into the room where the writing was as Amara paused to read it before acknowledging the angel in the garden. "I didn't _even_ know I'd be coming here today."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Amara explained softly, "Humans and their miscommunications..." she frowned as she glanced back over at the window to find the angel to be gone.

"Right... what are you saying? That you're not human?" Sally laughed, finding the woman's quirkiness was starting to worry her by how serious she seemed to be.

Amara gave her a smile, "Something like that..." she reached into her pocket and pulled out the TARDIS key and handed it to Sally, "I was told to give you this as well, it'll be useful in the future."

"No thanks," Sally pushed her hand away stubbornly, eyeing the woman curiously.

"Whatever."

"Why are you here then?" Sally shouted after Amara, following her out into the garden, through the strenuous weeds and wild flowers until she paused, coming to stand before another statue of an angel.

"Um, well... it's all about following the trend," Amara smiled at she looked at the statue, "I'm here for this chap."

"But it's just a statue?"

Amara tilted her head, "Is it?"

Sally chuckled, "Right, so this is some prank- "

"Before I go, Sally," Amara called over her shoulder as she cut her off softly, continuing to stare at the statue intently, "You should probably read that letter..."

"Who's it from?" Sally inquired, finding that she didn't recognise the handwriting on the front of the envelope, cursive scrawl greeting her.

"Ah..." Amara let a sigh pass through her lips, "You wouldn't believe me. I wouldn't believe me if I were you..."

"You wanna bet?"

Amara laughed, disappointed that she couldn't turn to face the woman behind her. "Oh, I do love a good ol' dare," she beamed in a sing-song voice. "The bloke I met outside, he said it was from his grandmother... a Katherine Wainwright? Maiden name was Nightingale..." she let out another deep breath, straightening before the angel. "And speaking of her, you should probably check on your friend, Sally..."

As soon as she'd spoken, an imposing crash sounded from within the house and drew Sally's immediate attention.

"Kathy!" Sally shouted, turning to run back inside.

Amara winced as she heard the echoes of Sally's shouts within the house as she searched for her friend frantically.

The statue stood in the semblance of a delicate, weeping angel with its hands poised over its face. _A deceiving guise_. One thing she'd never fancied participating in was a staring competition with a Weeping Angel of all things... she could feel her eyes beginning to water the longer she stared at it. Her eyelids twitched unfairly as she felt a weak draft crossing her face.

She couldn't win the fight. One way or another, she would have to give in to find her way to the Doctor and Martha.

Amara smiled as she waited for Sally to make her way up the stairs, clasping her hands behind her back as she stared at the bared teeth. "How do angels greet one another?" she grinned, hearing Sally's thundering steps as she sprinted up the stairs. "They say ' _halo_.'"

And with that, she blinked.

Soon enough, Sally returned to the garden, panicked. "Where did she..." rushing through the back, she came to a halt to see the blonde woman, Amara, gone and no longer there as she had been before.

She had just been there.

Sally sighed, running a hand through her hair in confusion.

However, her gaze stilled when she caught sight of the statue the woman had been staring at intently. Except now, one of its hands was outstretched with its forefinger pointing outwards whilst in the other, swung the key Sally had refused to take from the woman.

* * *

Huffing to herself, Martha sighed in vexation as she ventured up the several flights of steps leading to the makeshift flat she and the Doctor had managed to afford enough rent to live in for the time being. The Doctor had been going slowly insane while waiting, and well Martha could only entertain him for so long before he could too much for her.

What bugged her most was that he seemed to stop talking to her, sulking in longer silences. And well, with little television, books and music... it was enough to try someone mad. Though he barely ate normally, he ate next to nothing and said even less.

Was it all because Amara wasn't there with them?

They'd been there a total of four days if that. And in those four days, Martha had found herself a job at a coffee shop (despite the ridiculous hours), seeing as she had no idea how long they would be stuck in nineteen sixty-nine.

What surprised her even more was that the Doctor had taken to going around the neighbourhood, offering to fix things to pass the time. Something to seriously distract him from waiting.

She hated to catch him waiting, eyeing the door in contempt, more so whenever she got in late for work to meeting his disappointed gaze when she walked through it, obviously expecting Amara.

She didn't blame him – every time the shop door opened, she looked up hoping to see Amara.

But she never did.

She was just so tired without Amara there to keep her company or cheer up. Barely managing to balance three bags of shopping in her hands, Martha struggled up the stairs as best as she could without falling and she hadn't even given any thought to how she was going to get her keys out of her pocket to open the front door.

Having reached the door, she paused and deliberated the best way to go about trying to retrieve her keys without causing utter chaos in the hall or screaming, for that matter. She was struggling to even get the bags into one hand without their contents spilling over the floor and-

"Let me help you with those..." someone asserted before moving to take two of the bags from her triumphantly.

Martha sighed gratefully, "Oh, thanks..." she bit out, moving to hurriedly get the key into the lock and open the door.

"No problem, Jones."

 _Wait..._ she knew that voice. Martha blinked as the third bag fell from her arms to slug on the floor, gasping as she turned around to see that her saviour was Amara, frowning at the bag on the floor with an offended gaze.

"Didn't buy any mushrooms, did you?" Amara tried to see inside the others, biting her lips before meeting Martha's excited gaze again. "If you did, I'll just have to pick them- "

"'Mara!" Martha exclaimed in utter glee, launching herself into the woman's arms despite the bags she was carrying for her. "Oh, my God! You're actually here! How are you..." she laughed breathlessly when Amara moved to speak, "No, scratch that. Stupid..." she knew she hadn't used the TARDIS and had died via one of the Weeping Angels. "But how did you find us?"

Amara laughed with a shrug, "It's a Gallifreyan thing?" she offered with a grin as she followed Martha into the flat, and smiled instantly at the sight she was met with. It was just so... them. Making her to the small kitchenette, she set the bags down on a counter and sighed, "No... I asked around about a quirky, porcupine-haired man and well, I was put in this direction and... buongiorno, good day!"

Chuckling, Martha smiled warmly. "Why didn't you come to the shop?"

"I did try phoning you, but it went straight to voicemail..."

Martha's face fell at that, "Oh."

"Oh?" Amara echoed with a narrowed gaze.

"The Doctor turned it off after he hung up on you, and I forgot to turn it back on."

"What an idiot," Amara gave a deep sigh. "I've been waiting for hours, so I took the liberty of procuring a few job offers seeing as we don't know how long we're going to be here. A precaution..." she trailed off as she set the bags on the counter, finding Martha's silence unsettling. She frowned, "What?"

"It's nineteen sixty-nine, and you are not dressed for the times."

Looking down at her own clothing, Amara hummed. "Funny, you're the fourth person to say that to me," she hadn't been there for very long, so it wasn't like clothing options were the first thing on her agenda. "Besides, what are you _wearing_?"

Martha looked down at her own outfit and smiled sheepishly. A mini skirt and a red top with a peter pan collar, hair tied back securely with an apron locked around her waist. She looked back up to see Amara trying not to laugh.

"Coffee shop?" Amara tested with an arched brow.

"It's nineteen sixty-nine, 'Mara."

She raised her hands in surrender, "I didn't say anything..." Amara smiled as she wandered around the flat before coming to lean against the back of the sofa. "So what's it like? I should imagine it's- "

"Awful," Martha cut in with a heavy sigh, leaning on her elbows as she collapsed against the side of the counter in dismay. "He's been horrific- he barely speaks and just sits on the sofa, sulking to himself. Right grumpy arse."

Amara's mouth fell open at her reply, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. "I wasn't..."

"Yes, you were."

Amara rolled her eyes in annoyance, throwing her head back in annoyance. She had enjoyed the silence of Martha's constant pestering. "Martha, you need give up." It was becoming increasingly annoying for her to avoid altogether and dance around when it was all she wanted to talk about.

"Just because you want to doesn't mean I have to, does it?" Martha titled her head testily, arching a brow as she stared at her friend. "Are you interested though?"

Amara gave a firm shake of her head, "No."

"Liar."

"You really shouldn't call people liars..." Rolling her eyes, Amara knew Martha would stop until she got the answer she wanted and while she wanted Martha to stop, she didn't want to give her the satisfaction either. "Whatever answer I give you'll argue otherwise," she sighed, posing her hand under her chin, "No, I am not interested."

"I bet the TARDIS would agree with me."

Amara bit the inside of her cheek in annoyance, "That's... that's..." she sucked in a sharp breath, finding it hard to even dance around the subject anymore. Martha was so persistent. "Completely unorthodox. I highly doubt she would agree with you..."

Martha grinned, "You wanna bet?"

She didn't let herself get touched by a damned Weeping Angel for Martha Jones to pester her about the Doctor and she wasn't about to let herself face that torment in nineteen sixty-nine either. "So, you've been here three days- " she tried to change the subject respectively, hoping to draw her attention away successfully until her friend cut her off.

" _Four_."

Amara tried not to roll her eyes at Martha's fussy ways and instead, smiled. "Sorry, _four_ days and what's happened while I've been gone?"

"Well- " Martha went to answer her until fumbling of the lock of the front door could be heard from where they were stood, drawing their attention to it. "How hard is it to put a key in a lock and turn?"

Amara shrugged, turning to face the door in amusement. "He's male."

There were several muffled shouts from the other side of the door as the Doctor seemingly fought with the wood, jiggling it in annoyance, "Stupid thing!" he cried out in his frustration, followed by what sounded like a pounding of a fist. "Damn..."

Neither women were surprised when they heard the buzzing of the sonic echoing from outside, following by the door unlocking and being thrown open as the Doctor charged in and set the offending object, the front door key, in the middle of the coffee table and glared at it.

The Doctor frowned, scratching his hair in his exhaustion as he glowered at the cut piece of metal, "Martha, I think I may need a new key."

"You better not!" Martha whacked his arm which made him glower at her, "That'll be the second one gone in four days!"

At Martha's statement, Amara couldn't help but laugh, "I told you, it's a male thing."

"For a second there, I thought I heard- " the Doctor paused, closing his eyes as he replayed what he'd just heard over in his head, feeling as though he was slowly going insane, taking a moment to breathe before he chanced it. He opened his eyes slowly and looked over at the kitchenette as a grin stretched across his face, "'Mara!"

Wasting little time, the Doctor stepped around Martha to pull Amara into his arms as he beamed manically and holding her close, spinning her around and setting her down to wrap his arms around her tightly, almost squeezing the life out of her.

She confessed she was slightly taken aback by his reaction, and immediately found the heat rushing to her face at mere contact seeing as they were meant to be on egg shells with one another. It was odd to feel the warmth of his body against hers in a tight embrace, as though he couldn't bring himself to let go - something she never anticipated him doing by a long shot.

Amara managed a smile, wrapping her arms around him to hug him back to appease him for the moment. "Anyone would think I died," she jested in a sing-song voice when he stepped away from her. "Oh, good pun."

The Doctor smiled widely, "I missed you," he realised his words and watched as Amara's gaze narrowed in amusement while his widened, "I, um..." he stumbled over his words, racing to amend them. "I mean, we missed you."

"I'm flattered," Amara smiled softly, ignoring his evident panic by expressing his feelings and instead chose to tease him. "Is that your sonic screwdriver in your pockets, or are you just happy to see me?"

The idiot, of course, looked down which only made Martha roar with laughter to see him caught out. The Doctor, having realised her teasing, flushed heatedly in his embarrassment.

Amara squeezed his forearm and sighed, "So, life would be boring without me in it?" she glanced between the pair of them expectantly before grinning, "If it makes you feel any better, I missed your stupid face."

Collapsing into the sofa, the Doctor continued to grin at Amara as the blonde accepted the tea Martha handed her, "Did it go all right? Getting here, I mean..." he asked eagerly, wanting to know everything they had missed since leaving present time.

"Swimmingly, me and sexy had a fantastic bonding session, a real shame you missed it," Amara wiggled her brows which roused a laugh from the Doctor as Martha looked between them, not following. "I think she's my new favourite, or at least... I'm her's."

The Doctor's face contorted at that, "Rubbish!" he scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief despite knowing that the TARDIS had warmed to Amara surprisingly quick, something that left him amused.

"We can always ask her," Amara offered with a dismissive shrug, "Anyway, I, um... gave Sally my key, I figured it would be useful for her to have. I gave her the letter from Kathy, too," she hugged the mug to her chest and smiled sheepishly, "So hopefully, that helps in some way."

"Of course!" he beamed at her wildly, "But for the moment, welcome to nineteen sixty-nine!"

Martha scoffed at his words, chucking a cloth at his face, "Or the life where we have to support him."

That caught Amara's attention immediately, making her crane her neck to look at Martha fully and wondering if she'd heard her correctly. "What now?" she repeated with a shake of her head. "Because for a second I could have sworn you said that _we support him_ , but I hoping that you didn't say that..."

"We have to get jobs to support him," Martha interjected in her outrage, throwing her hands up into the air.

Amara made her face, "Well, isn't that..."

The Doctor jumped to his feet, cutting her off instantly: "I offered to get a proper job!"

"You get a job?" Amara scoffed at the defensive remark as she looked to Martha, "If he ever gets a proper job, he'll probably jeopardise history just to amuse himself..."

"I would not!"

"Oh, I beg to differ," Amara folded her arms and turned to face him with a smirk, "You've got a notorious record for blowing things up while _trying_ to fix them..."

"Oh, c'mon! I'm not _that_ bad!" the Doctor whined at his own defence, "I'm not THAT bad!"

Amara made a noise with her mouth, "Well, while you were carrying out your little exploration of Wester Drumlins, do you know how much I fixed? It's a wonder she _still_ functions as well as she does," she sighed, secretly enjoying the helpless look on his face. "I can give you list of what I had to fix on that damned console because someone is always way _too_ excited."

At her words, the Doctor hesitated and looked down at the ground, looking very much like a child who had just been scolded by its parents. "No..."

"Hmm," she turned back to Martha, "So, I better go accept that job... to do with hormonal teens. How joyful."

* * *

Both women had left him to his own devices to go and secure whatever the job Amara had told Martha was. He also realised that he might as well move onto the sofa for the foreseeable future while Martha shared the bedroom with Amara.

The Doctor was currently sitting there, flipping through the few television channels that were available to him as he waited for them to come back. He confessed he was quite surprised they had trusted him enough to _not_ set the apartment on fire.

"... I can't believe it," he could hear Martha's voice approached the locked down as the key turned, "You moaned and you moaned about it in Farringham but look at you! I think you secretly liked teaching English, that's why you said yes."

"I did accept rather quickly didn't I?" Amara grimaced in self-frustration, shutting the door behind her after they'd entered. "I'm starting to think a little too quickly."

"What happened then?" he sat up eagerly, peering over the sofa to face them, dying to know what was going on while he'd been confined to the flat.

Martha grinned, nudging Amara forward as she set her bag down. "Thou art looking at the new English teachest'r at yond college."

"Your Shakespearian's a bit rough..."

"Really?" the Doctor asked, trying to look happy for Amara but secretly feeling confused, and a little worried for her to be working in a school during the time of the sexual revolution. "I thought you hated teaching?"

"Uh, well... I do," Amara agreed, walking over to sit on the arm of the chair next to him while Martha settled into the armchair opposite. "It wasn't the best idea in retrospect, but I know it'll keep me distracted which doesn't sound like a bad thing. I was following the transcript anyway."

"So..." the Doctor stared at her, feeling himself smile as he sat forwards on his knees. "How did you end up with the job?"

"Oh, you _had_ to be there," Martha laughed in amusement as she clapped her hands together, excited from having seen Amara's brilliance. "She recited Keats to the headmaster with this... aura, passion..." Martha clapped a hand on her shoulder in her excitement, "His face! Oh, it was brilliant!"

"And I didn't want to be forced into classrooms with hormonal teenagers," Amara grimaced, thinking back to the transcript and how she'd already known her life during the time of their entrapment. "Some things can't be avoided apparently."

"Which poem did you recite?" the Doctor asked suddenly, eyeing Amara closely as he took in her features, gripping her arm to pull her attention away from Martha.

"' _Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art_ ,'" Amara smiled softly as she found the Doctor watching her while Martha grinned, "I always liked Keats, and I got a bit carried away... what?"

Martha glanced away, trying to act natural despite finding her excitement bounding through her as the Doctor stared at Amara. "Nothing..." she brushed off, rising to her feet as the Doctor sat closer, listening to Amara as she listed what she planned to teach the students, seemingly engrossed by her voice.

Martha's smile widened as he saw the way the Doctor was staring at her, smiling at how close they were sat with one another, how close they seemed... how they seemed to gravitate to one another.

* * *

She tried not to admit to herself that over the past couple of weeks, she didn't feel hounded by her students, particularly the boys and that everything was going well. Of course, that was a lie. She couldn't wait for Sally Sparrow to send the TARDIS back to them so that they could leave.

She'd also taken note of the increase in students attending her lessons, and she knew it wasn't down to the fact that she was teaching Shakespeare and Keats to seventeen year-olds. She knew it was very much down the revealing state of her wardrobe, and how it restricted her modesty.

She missed her bed. She missed her books. She missed her music. She missed her own space.

She felt awful for wanting it, and it wasn't that she didn't like sharing a flat with the Doctor (that was questionable) or Martha – she just needed her freedom to breathe.

"' _You look like an angel, walk like an angel, talk like an angel... but I got wise, you're the devil in disguise,_ '" Amara hummed when she saw Martha emerged from their shared room, yawning. "Morning," she smiled as she poured her a cup of coffee.

As Martha took the cup from her, Amara turned to lift the pile of papers and books into her bag with a sigh before checking it over to make sure she had everything. She couldn't believe she was panicking over something so ludicrous as teaching.

The one thing that was continuously bugging her was the bloody clothing, and seeing as they were going to have to wait for the Billy (which was meant to happen just before the moon landing), they had to compromise.

She was more than a little uncomfortable with wearing dresses as it was anyway, always detested the things. The skirts were far too short, but the sixties were delusional and perverted, apparently. At least Martha felt more comfortable seeing as she was more covered (her job was far kinder that way) but she hadn't exactly prevented her friend from picking her clothes for her either.

Despite her initial stubbornness, Amara had relented and let herself dress in baby doll dresses, far too short for her liking but she hadn't been able to conform to anything else. She'd settled for flats for the fear of needing to run and had left her hair as it was seeing as it was far too short to bother with any styles.

A cerulean floral baby doll dress sat comfortably on her body, elegant and simple – a choice that had attracted a certain pair of eyes.

Something that had also proven interesting from her forced choices in clothing was the reactions from the Doctor – something Martha enjoyed witnessing each morning whenever Amara walked into the kitchenette. He tried to hide it as his eyes would follow her, glued to her legs (usually). The poor Time Lord also seemed to struggle to form coherent sentences when she talked to him, and yet, Martha found it worth its hilarity just to see how flustered he became.

Martha smirked as she sipped at her tea, clocking the Doctor as he stared at Amara from the corner of his eye, tracking her movements. "'Mar..." Martha whispered, causing the other woman to look up. "He's staring at you..."

Amara sighed, contemplating if it would be appropriate to hit Martha or not. Day in, day out Martha would mention the same things just to get a rise out of her. She didn't like him like that, and she wasn't pursuing a romanticised love story either. She didn't look, her eyes remaining on the contents of her bag. "You're hallucinating, Jones."

"I am not," Martha scoffed into her cup before she tied her apron around her waist. "He does it every morning."

She looked at her friend and sighed, allowing her eyes to flicker over to the sofa to see the Doctor pretending to be distracted by the television. "Please stop this..." she bit out in frustration, running a hand through her hair. Didn't Martha think she was very aware that he watched her?

It was driving her mad... ever since nineteen thirteen.

John Smith had done something to the pair of them, something that they were both aware of.

But she didn't want Martha to try and do something so ludicrous. She was always compromising her in front of him, drawing his attention to her and often left her alone with him on purpose. She wasn't interested, and she couldn't afford to become too emotionally attached.

At dinner, he _had_ to sit opposite her and on the sofa, she _had_ to sit next to him just because Martha Jones was trying to play match-maker. She was failing, her resolve crumbling. Martha didn't listen to her, and she knew she was trying her hardest to get something to happen.

"You look nice," Martha grinned, leaning across the counter as she wiggled her brows.

Amara bristled in distaste, her fingers drumming on the side to contain her increasing vexed mood. "You're encouraging those hormonal jackals, and their objectification," she ranted in her annoyance, trying not to laugh. "I've got to stand there and talk while they all _stare_ , just staring mind you, no questions. I'm not even sure if they're engaged. It's like a blank void."

Martha laughed, "Here come the dramatics!"

Amara shook her head in defeat, "There's no point arguing with you, it's always so tiresome when you refuse to listen to what I'm saying to you. It reminds me of that Aerosmith song... ' _it's the same old story, same old song and dance, my friend,_ '" she ventured a smile, humming the song in the absence of her music. She pulled her bag over her shoulder and eyed the clock sitting on the far side of the room, "I'll be back at the normal time, in a good mood... not guaranteed."

"Doctor!" Martha winked at Amara before turning to face the said alien in question, who hummed, looking to her briefly, expectantly. "Does 'Mara look lovely today?"

She could see it. She could really see herself throttling Martha Jones and even if she did, she knew she'd continue to traumatise her. It was already awkward enough – despite their theatrics after the situation with the Family, she was aware they were sailing a boat that was heading straight for a storm.

And at that very moment, Martha seemed to be the storm. _So much for Saint Martha Jones_.

"Pardon?" the Doctor blinked.

"Doesn't 'Mara's outfit look..." she grinned when she caught Amara's warning glower, looking to the Doctor and nodding to the other woman. "Tasty."

Amara grimaced almost immediately, "That's the only word you could think of?"

He blinked again and he looked back at Amara, staring at her openly for a long moment which made her shift under his gaze, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she looked away. He'd noticed that. Her hair wasn't exactly long enough for her to persistently do so, though it had become a habit for her to do, like a ritual. He took in her face, her eyes as they glittered, her nose and her mouth...

His eyes trailed down to study the baby doll dress she was wearing: it was a soft blend of pastel blues, entwined with a subtle pattern of floral as it swept around her figure, hanging close enough to make her curves noticeable and falling above her knees to sweep across her thighs. _Very long legs..._

He swallowed hard, flushing as he pulled his gaze away. "I, um... yes, you do. I mean, you look... good!" he proclaimed, feeling the heat rising to his face. " _Very_ pretty! Stunning, uh..."

Taking sympathy on him, Amara tilted her head. "Foxy?"

At her suggestion, the Doctor beamed before flushing again when he caught himself. "Oh, yes!"

Amara just smiled before moving to leave again.

"'Mar!" Martha shouted after her, wheeling around on her heel in a flash. "I'll come and see you?"

"What? So you can flirt with the P.E. teacher again? I love being the third wheel." Martha flushed at that, and Amara felt as though she'd sought some retribution for her teasing. "I think I'll come and see you," Amara agreed with a smile, knowing that the woman was itching to gossip with her.

"Mark's very nice, actually."

"Oh," Amara laughed at the use of the man's first name, "On a first name basis are we?" she couldn't help but feel slightly smug when Martha fell silent, opening her mouth and falling to speak in retort as Amara turned to the Doctor, "Don't get into any trouble, Casanova."

The Doctor flashed a grin, "Have a nice day, 'Mara."

"Be good, Time Boy."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Martha retorted with a smirk, making Amara glance back at her over her shoulder.

She frowned, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Will!" Martha sang brightly, "Don't let him seduce you with physics!"

Amara stared at her for a moment, biting her bottom lip as her frustration grew inside her. Thank God the Doctor was there to remind her she couldn't do anything to Martha... "I think you'll find _he_ is the flirt."

"Flirt?" the Doctor glanced between the pair of them. Were men flirting with Amara at work as well as the students? He couldn't stand for that... she was _his_ companion, and that meant he had to protect her from other men...

"'Mara's being seduced by the physics teacher at the college, and he's not bad looking either."

"I'm going!" Amara announced, turning her back on the pair of them with annoyance. "Be good!"

As soon as Amara left their dingy flat, Martha practically launched herself at the Doctor with a wide grin. "You've brought this on yourself, you know," she poked his shoulder and laughed, "You can sit there and wonder why she unplugs every appliance before she goes out, but we both know that she'll go ballistic if you ruin that toaster."

The Doctor sighed. The first toaster _hadn't_ been his fault, and besides... Amara didn't even know about what he had done to the blender. "It's not my fault."

"Half of those experiments amounted to nothing," Martha commented with a wry smile, "And they failed, getting you nothing but an annoyed rant from our flaxen friend," she grabbed her key and danced towards the door,

As he watched her getting ready to leave, he found himself calling her back as worry flooded through his chest. "Martha..." he couldn't help but wonder if Amara was interested in other men...

"Yes..." Martha wheeled around to face him curiously, her hands coming to fall at her sides expectantly. "I really don't want to be late."

He was blurting out his fears before he could bring himself to stop and he wasn't at all surprised when Martha's eyes widened. "Is 'Mara flirting as well?"

Martha stared at him for a few moments, trying to weigh out his reasoning for being apparently worried. "No," she told him with a slight frown, tilting her head at the Doctor in sympathy at how helpless he suddenly looked as he continued to watch her. "Not being funny, but 'Mara's not the type of person to get attached to someone seeing as she's got responsibilities."

The Doctor blinked at her, confused by her replyay. "Responsibilities?"

Martha rolled her eyes, "You," she laughed.

"Me?" he was stopping Amara from finding someone? He was confused – Martha knew they had sorted what had happened between Amara and John, and he knew she knew that he wasn't interested in her like that. So why would he be the reason she refused to do anything?

"You," Martha repeated slowly, eyeing him carefully and finding she was secretly enjoying the evident panic as it rose onto his face. "Me," she added, seeing his brow perk in question. "The TARDIS."

The Doctor's mouth fell agape at his own stupidity as he gave an embarrassed chuckle, nodding in understanding, "Oh, right..." he sighed, reclining into his chair with amusement as he caught Martha's playful gaze.

"See you later!" she turned away from him again, disappearing through it to then lock it behind her.

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the door to the flat click shut behind Martha, leaving him on his own once more. It was nearing a month since they'd been stranded in nineteen sixty-nine, and it was fairly clear to him that they were going to be there for quite some time... until he could figure out a way to get them back home.

Or bring their home to them.

He rubbed his hands across his face wearily – so far, he'd been working nearly non-stop to try and build a temporal disturbance detector but it was proving to beextraordinarilyy difficult when he was limited due to the time period and because Amara refused to let him meddle with anything.

He felt so exhausted, and he knew he needed to sleep but he didn't want to give him. It had been nearly three weeks since he'd properly slept, and he didn't include snoozing on the sofa as sleep either. But he didn't want to miss out on anything or for Amara or Martha to catch him in a nightmare.

He didn't want that.

Usually, he'd use the time they were at work to spend sleeping.

At night, especially, he found that he missed Rose the most. He missed her presence, her warm smile and her soft laugh. He hadn't been ready to let her go, and it had gone horribly wrong before he was ready. And he was alone. No Rose.

And he missed her. He loved her.

He groaned at his thoughts, knowing he could dwell on them forever. He had work to get done.

He had to make that damn temporal disturbance detector without running any of the appliances Amara was fond of, ready for Billy Shipton's arrival.

* * *

Martha had grinned when she'd caught sight of Will Goode walking Amara along the street like the proper gentlemen he claimed to be, all smiles and dashing looks. If Amara didn't do something about him, she sure would.

She wished men would throw themselves at her feet.

Tall. Dark. Handsome. Just like Hugh Jackman.

Her heart swelled when she saw the man lead Amara across the street, his hand coming to fall on the small of her back as he chatted away merrily, rousing a smile and some laughter from her friend.

Before the pair of them had even reached the shop, she was preparing two cups for them eagerly, allowing her mind to whiz ahead of her when the door dinged. Her eyes snapped up when she heard his rich baritone drift to meet her ears, making her knees weak.

"Orwell is brilliant," Will was saying with a grin, "One of my absolute favourites! A mind of true brilliance as was Einstein!" he laughed when Amara grimaced in reply, "I will make you love physics, and then your life will never be the same, I swear."

"Sure you will," Amara rolled her eyes as they approached the counter, "Martha, save me from this man's insistent plies of physics to goad me- "

"Goad you?" Will scoffed, "As if I would do such a thing," he sighed and turned to Amara's friend with a warm smile, "Hello again, Martha... how are you?"

Martha grinned at the man, "Oh, I'm great! The usual?" Will nodded and she immediately slid the cup over to him which roused another grin from him.

"Well," Will cleared his throat, "I best join the crowd and waste time chatting about football – we might actually win the World Cup this year," he rolled his eyes, waving as he moved to reach the table of male faculty.

"So..." Martha cleared her throat as she passed Amara her coffee, sinking into the chair opposite her. "How are you and lover boy? I don't mean Will by the way. Not good though? You made such a good couple..." she smiled into her coffee, looking up at Amara through her lashes to see her friend glowering back at her.

"You and I both know we're not like that, Martha."

"Are you honestly telling me that you aren't the least bit interested in him?" she couldn't believe that after everything that happened that Amara didn't feel something the Doctor – she knew that someone didn't willingly participate in a romance unless they were interested. But Amara had admitted to her that she had liked it. "You said that he made you a safeguard to hide you from the Family – he made sure John would fall in love with you," to her, it seemed so obvious that the Doctor felt something for her! "And now, you're both pretending as though nothing happened between the pair of you."

Amara sighed, kicking Martha under the table as the other woman sucked in a sharp breath. She pinched the bridge of her nose when she saw the way Martha was staring at her, "We shared a very lengthy conversation which involved raised voices. Something known as an argument or quarrel, wrangle, dispute- "

"Oh, a domestic," Martha jeered in amusement, earning her another glare from Amara. "But how do you do it?" she persisted, leaning forwards on her elbows with interest.

"Do what?" Amara countered with an arched brow.

"You know, pretending as if everything is normal between the both of you. I know it isn't, and so do you," she so desperately wanted Amara to see what was right in front her, what she could see... "He's ignoring it."

As Amara stared at the woman opposite, she found her hearts swelling at Martha Jones and how lucky she felt to have shared in her friendship. "It's the way it has to be," she informed her quietly; she didn't feel like she was missing out on anything and yet, she felt incomplete. "We both agreed that we wanted to preserve our friendship, and that's what I'm trying to do."

Martha sighed, tapping her forefinger on her chin in thought, "Can't you tell him that you're like him... just so, oh, I don't know. I just don't want him to carry on thinking he's alone when we both know he' not," she hated seeing him sulking or brooding over what Boe had said to him, and she hated lying to him.

She hated concealing Amara's identity from him.

She hated him thinking he was alone.

Amara hesitated for a moment, "Not until I find my bosom buddy," she bit her lip, trying to find the suitable way to explain why she preferred to remain hidden until she sorted out her mistakes. "Besides, he's still grieving for Rose... he tries to hide it but he's not as strong as he thinks he is. I don't want him knowing what I am to ruin what he had with Rose."

"What?" Martha found herself demanding before she could stop herself. It was ridiculous – and although it was cruel, she doubted that Rose was e _ver_ coming back.

"That's how I feel," Amara told her curtly, hoping to put the woman off her questioning. "What happened between John and myself mustn't happen again, that is imperative." Martha stared at her for a quiet moment, and Amara cleared her throat before leaning forwards. "Look, I want to stay and travel with him but not because he feels he has to because of _what_ I am, I'd feel like an obligation," she ground her teeth together before taking a long sip of her drink. "I would like to think I'm interesting enough to want to keep around..."

"I get it, I do... you don't want him to take you with him because you're the last of your species. I get it. You want him to want it." She understood what she was telling her; she didn't need to be told twice. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to encourage them together.

"Because of _what_ I am... and when he finds out, I- I don't want him to want anything because of that, or try to instigate because of who I am. Do you not think I'm scared, Martha? What if when he finds out, he wants to try and do something?" Amara frowned in thought, "I don't take any enjoyment from hurting him but it's the right thing to do."

Out of impulse, Martha reached across the table to take Amara's hand, "He won't hate you, 'Mara."

Though she still secretly hoped that if they continued to travel with one another after he found out the truth a romance would soon form between them – it would be a waste of all her hard work otherwise – she knew that the Doctor was interested somewhat, and she hoped that his interest would develop into something else.

"It might not even come to that," Amara announced with a laugh, squeezing Martha's hand, "But I've got to be so careful, I could say one thing and he'd know, something I don't want him to notice or find out about just yet... and who's to say how he'll react?"

"Well, newsflash," Martha laughed brightly, flashing another famous grin. "He's been noticing you a lot lately."

"Oh, well you best bring out the bunting and flags," Amara muttered under her breath, "You're making something out of nothing."

"You're joking!" Martha whistled in her amusement, "How have you not noticed the newspaper trick?" it was something she enjoyed witnessing after dinner every day, and neither of them seemed to notice her watching which made it all the more enjoyable.

"You made that up."

"You _know_ how fast he can read, right?" Martha gave an eye roll, throwing herself back into her chair with another howl. "Then why doesn't he turn a single page during the evening after dinner? Not a single page!"

"Martha, you and I both know that it's the clothes," Amara bit out, burying her head in her cup, "I stand corrected when I thought nineteen-thirteen was bad..."

"Oh as if it's the clothes!" Amara didn't say anything and instead, she remained quiet and Martha knew she was aware. He kept noticing her more, more so since John Smith. "He must stare manically at least twelve times a day... God knows what he does when we're sleeping."

"I don't sleep that often."

"Oh, whatever," Martha rolled her eyes, "Have you noticed he likes to hold your hand sometimes? And the smiles!

"What really bugs me is that he always asks how your day was, even if I've been home for hours! I mean, come on!" Martha let out a ragged breath in annoyance before smiling widely, "But have you noticed that he only gives you a hug and he makes you cups of tea!"

Amara scoffed at that, "He makes them for you as well."

"But the way you like them," Martha countered immediately, "I don't take sugar."

"Really?"

Martha grinned, "You know I don't."

Amara hummed in amusement, "That's quite funny..."

"'Mara..." Martha breathed as Amara abruptly rose to her feet, "You know it's true."

With another deep sigh, Amara spun around to face her once more. "Martha, you need to understand something: as much as you may _want_ something to happen, it won't because it _can't_. You can carry on playing match-maker for as long as you see fit but you must listen to me when I say I'm not interested - that's _not_ my purpose."

And with that, she exited the coffee shop to begin striding back towards the college, evidently not wanting to talk anymore about the Doctor.

She knew that Amara felt something for the Doctor – she had seen it at Farringham, and it wasn't going away any time soon. She could see the stirrings of something lurking, and she could see the fear in Amara's eyes whenever she mentioned it to her face.

John Smith had loved Amara, and she was determined to believe that despite how small, he had similar feelings. He had never given her a safeguard.

There was something there that wasn't there before.

* * *

It was until roughly another week that the Doctor determined it was the right time to begin leaving clues for Sally due to the fact that he was getting increasingly restless and irritable the longer they waited.

Begrudgingly, both women had allowed the Doctor to convince them to return to Wester Drumlins, the house in far better shape than the last time they had set eyes on it, and it actually looked as though it had been cherished.

However, Martha found herself coming to a firm halt in front of the gate. "No..." she shook her head, eyeing the building. If there was the possibility of Weeping Angels lurking in that house, she wasn't going anywhere near it.

Amara laughed, "Come on, Jones... you know we've got to leave a message for Sally somehow."

"Last time we went in that bloody house, we got sent forty years into the past!" Martha fumed, glowering in distaste. "I am not getting sent back another forty!"

"Hmm, nineteen twenty-nine..." Amara mused, earning herself a hard shove from Martha.

"Thirty-eight years actually!" the Doctor argued in a protest, "And I doubt that would happen, you know... the odds of us getting sent back again are very slim, and besides, we could be sent to any point in the past."

Amara snorted at the expression on Martha's face, "Not helping."

"Not happening," Martha folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child, the rolls of wallpaper making it slightly more difficult. "I am not going in there again."

Beside her, Amara pushed through the gates with intention. "Come on, Martha..." she turned back to face her with a grin, "The Angels aren't even here yet... probably," she shrugged in her own amusement, "And if they are, we can leave... easy as pi."

Martha stared at her for a couple of seconds before sighing, "Fine," she relented with a glare.

The Doctor beamed, yanking her along in his excitement. "That's the spirit, Martha Jones!" he led her along, strolling towards the front door, his grin not faltering for a single moment. "And if we do happen upon an Angel," he spoke, "Just keeping looking at it... as long as you're watching it, it can't move."

"Yeah, funnily enough the transcript's more help than you," Martha grumbled at the Time Lord. "' _Don't even blink.'_ "

Amara sighed in thought, "Why not wink? That way you could keep one eye on it."

The Doctor frowned, "What?"

"Winking, you know... close and open one eye quickly," Amara frowned when she saw the both of them string at her as though she was speaking utter gibberish. "A way of greeting someone or showing friendliness, sexual interest et cetera..."

"Why didn't you say that?" Martha rounded on the Doctor, suddenly furious at how they could have avoided being sent back. "Then we wouldn't be in this stupid mess, would we?"

"How was I supposed to know?" he defended, raising his hands in his own defence.

"You boast about your intellect!" Martha hissed, marching by him in her annoyance, moving towards the stairs to prevent herself from whacking him over the head with one of the many rotten planks of wood lying limply upon the floor – though the rolls of wallpaper seemed a suitable enough choice.

Amara snickered, "Often and loudly."

As they wandered through the house, they soon felt more at ease primarily due to the evident absence of the Angels which meant they could get on smoothly, and without any interruptions.

The Time Lord had brought supplies, forcing poor Martha to carry the rolls of wallpaper while Amara took the glue, the Doctor wielding the paint – they task was simple, and all they had to do was leave the message for Sally.

Something which took them all of half an hour, leaving the Doctor more distraught when knowing he'd soon be bored once more.

' _BEWARE THE WEEPING ANGEL! OH, AND DUCK! REALLY, DUCK! SALLY SPARROW DUCK, NOW!_ ' with some small scrawl that read: ' _LOVE FORM THE DOCTOR, MARTHA AND 'MARA (1969)._ '

With a deep sigh, Amara had taken the brush from him and scrawled a smiley face beneath the message, admiring it with a grin, "Ah, the pièce _de résistance!"_

The Doctor had been trying to get some sort of device working that Martha couldn't even begin to describe, and apparently, he was successfully failing.

In his frustration, the Doctor kicked the table furiously as Martha jolted in her chair, eyeing him curiously without saying a word, wanting to avoid any confrontation with him. It was awkward when he was very much a caged animal who continuously snapped at her – something that seemed to be happening more often than not.

With a sigh, Amara set down a mug of hot chocolate in front of him with a patient smile and collapsed beside him while Martha fled to avoid any more terse tones being thrown at her unfairly, rushing off to work to save herself from his annoyance.

The Doctor ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it until it was stuck in ever direction possible, a mess of spikes everywhere. "I just... it won't work! I'm useless! I _can't_ get it to work!" he grumbled quietly, gesturing to the mess on the table in front of him.

"You will," Amara told him softly, eyeing his supposed invention in thought. "You already have... when you think about it. And you'll make something eventually, the oracle says so," she gestured to the purple folder that was sat beneath his so-called invention.

The Doctor never liked to admit defeat, and he didn't like to admit – even to himself – that there was something soothing in Amara's voice, especially in shared moments when he felt like he was losing control. But then he knew she could sympathise, since she'd lost control of herself before.

Yet, she managed to ease him.

"Yeah," he let out a sigh, watching as she rose to her feet. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm hungry," she said with a laugh, "Drink that and wait here."

He stared as Amara disappeared into their small kitchenette and the Doctor found himself intrigued with whatever she had planned. She always seemed to be full of surprises, and that was something he was starting to notice more and more.

He had the time to really _look_ at her while they were stuck in nineteen sixty-nine. He'd always been so distracted before, and he had been running – travelling through time and space had preoccupied him for the most of the time.

And yet as he saw her returning with two plates of food, he found himself grinning when he saw two bananas wedged onto his. When she reached the sofa, she chucked a table cloth at him with a smile, "For the mess you'll make," and with a nod he laid it across his lap.

Amara handed him a plate with a sandwich comprised of salad and cheese along with the bananas which roused another grin, "Thank you," he beamed at the sight.

"I should think so," she retorted.

He smiled at her comment, and proceeded to peel his banana, "How's the teaching going?" he'd noticed that she barely spoke about the job she'd gotten and had avoided any conversation about it around him which made him assume it wasn't enjoyable for her.

"As well as it could be, I suppose," Amara grimaced at the topic; she hated teaching, more specifically, during the sixties. Teaching during the sexual revolution isn't something that she would put on her bucket list. "We're starting _'The Great Gatsby_ ' tomorrow, so that should be fun in some regard."

The Doctor's brow perked, "No poets?" he thought she would have insisted on including some.

The question made her scoff, bristling at the suggestion. "They don't deserve to be graced with the likes of Shakespeare or Keats at the moment," Amara groaned with an eye roll – the boys just _stared_ and she hated it. It made it so difficult. "I'm not even sure if I want to venture with Orwell."

He frowned in thought – Martha had sung her praise to him about the job. "Martha says you're good at teaching though?"

"Most of the class is male for some perturbed reason. That doesn't mean they're interested in _actually_ learning..." she shuddered at the thought, knowing that she spent all her time as the front of the class because she didn't want to venture through the rows of students. She couldn't bring herself to do it. "It's just me talking really."

Chewing the banana, he stared at her for a moment. "You shouldn't wear those clothes." He had told Martha that choosing Amara's outfits had been a terrible idea – it was like she wanted her to preyed upon by the boys at the college. He didn't like the idea of the boys getting ideas either...

"What else can I wear?" it wasn't like she _wanted_ to wear short dresses or skirts – there wasn't much choice unless she wanted to cause a stir. "I don't fancy giving those corsets or skirts another go. At least I can breathe," she'd rather sixties attire over the crude objects she had to wear while hiding from the Family.

Not that the clothing didn't suit her or that she couldn't pull it off, he didn't like it nearly as much as what she usually wore. He didn't like seeing her uneasy. "But you're uncomfortable," he remarked, ducking his head slightly.

"We have to compromise and make the best out of these situations."

He couldn't bear the thought of the boys trying anything, or the fact that Amara was exposing herself to them because she thought she ha little choice. He couldn't protect her trapped in the flat all day. "And you're encouraging them..."

She smiled at his concern and found it sweet that he appeared to worry over her, but she could fend off college boys. She wasn't entirely useless. "I can handle myself," she saw the pointed look he gave and she sighed, trying not to be offended. "You don't think I can?"

"I never said that," the Doctor defended immediately.

"You implied it, Casanova."

The Doctor sighed; the best thing for him would be to try and move past it. Amara could handle herself and she wasn't useless. Instead, he found himself eyeing the copy of Othello that seemed to be glued to her nowadays and he smiled. "So does that mean I can convince you to read Shakespeare to me?" he suggested, his gaze flickering up to her with a hopeful glint shining in the depths of his eyes.

"You want me to share my relationship with my dearest Othello?" Amara demanded in outrage, her brow furrowed incredulously as she held his gaze firmly for a few seconds and he recoiled slightly. Seeing his confusion, she broke out into a smile. "I never thought you'd ask."

The Doctor watched Amara, observing her as she smiled in amusement. He wondered what she was thinking as they spoke, what she was _really_ thinking and he couldn't help but recall seeing the same look on her face many times before, most prominently when they'd met Shakespeare.

He recalled how beautiful she'd seemed bursting into their room after fleeing from the playwright, how her eyes gleamed while she pressed her weight against the door, her chest heaving. He hadn't wanted anyone else to travel with him, but she'd known so much about the TARDIS and it seemed that his ship liked her.

The TARDIS had done the seducing for him.

He sighed at the memory as she continued to study her face as it was before him – she looked far more wearier as she sat there, seemingly exhausted and withered compared to when he'd first met her at Torchwood. He knew nineteen-thirteen had been hard on her, and he was still shocked she hadn't taken off the first chance she got.

He was so stressed at his constant failures and yet, as soon as she came home with her smiles and her casual banter, he found himself eased and content at how happy a human could make him feel.

"So," Amara started, finishing the piece of her own sandwich as she chewed, "Do you want to attempt to fix this monstrosity?" she asked, nodding to the mess on the table with a slight chuckle at the sight of it in all its unglorified construction.

Smiling widely, the Doctor nodded profusely. "Oh, yes!"

* * *

Towelling off her hair, Martha waltzed out from the bathroom to the familiar buzzing of the sonic screwdriver radiating throughout their little flat, the noise telling her that the Doctor was sitting at the table, working on something as Amara sat at the opposite end, grading some of her students' essays.

Dressed as usual in his wrinkled brown pinstripe, he sat fiddling with all the items in front of him, working on whatever he was intent on making. He'd adorned his glasses which had spiked a chuckle from Amara at their very appearance, and of course, that had led to the playful bickering she'd missed seeing between the pair of them.

At least he wasn't snapping at her and he seemed happier in himself.

"Would you please stop?" he huffed with a sigh, biting his tongue as he continued with his work.

"You know," Amara remarked, her eyes scanning the writing in front of her, "They don't make you any more clever than you already are."

The Doctor arched a brow, eyeing her from the opposite end of the table as she continued marking contently, "Why do you bully me?" he feigned a hurtful expression as a soft smile crossed Amara's lips. "You're always tormenting me for something..."

Amara rolled her eyes, still not looking up from the papers in front of her, "It's always about you, isn't?" she commented dryly, her smile widening. "You've got to protect your bravado, because you're a cocky little porcupine and you want the entire Universe to know," she sung, tilting her head to the side as she scribbled some comments.

The Doctor grinned, looking up from his work to see if she was looking at him. She wasn't. "I think you left out handsome." Amara still didn't look at him.

She hummed softly, "No, I think it sounds more accurate without it."

"You said I was handsome before."

"I have these delusions," Amara mused with a smirk, "But no, not with those goggles you aren't."

The Doctor, having abandoned his contraption, folded his arms across his chest as he cast furrowed brows in her direction, "You like my cheek bones, you said so," he found himself accusing, wanting to see if he could get a rise.

Amara took a sip of her tea to moisten her throat before continuing in the farce: "I can't see them with those blinkers on your face," she was trying her best not to laugh or look at him to ruin her winning streak.

"You're not even looking," he scoffed with an eye roll, leaning forwards on his elbows.

"Whatever, four eyes."

The Doctor beamed, practically jumping in his chair. "Four eyes!" he clapped his hands against the table, vying for her attention.

"Anyway, I think you'll find you're the one who persistently goes on about your cheek bones," Amara spoke, knowing it was the truth – he _always_ mentioned it so they would comment on it, always wanting their attention. "If it's not those, it's your mane."

He spluttered, "Mane?"

Amara laughed, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Oh sorry, I meant toupee."

"Oh, this is all natural!" he couldn't help but run a hand through his hair just to prove the point, enjoying the feel while checking to see if she looked at him. She didn't. With a sigh, he reclined into his chair. "You should have seen the last one – hardly any hair and big ears. Not even ginger. _Absolutely fantastic_ ," he beamed with a lazy smile.

"You want to be a redheaded woodpecker? I don't think it would suit you," Amara announced smoothly, setting her pen down. "Besides, I find your peepers to be the most attractive feature, all syrup-like and chocolatey..." she looked up, meeting his gaze immediately with a slight smile. "Delicious."

He smirked wiggling his brows. "Well, aren't you devilish." He couldn't tell if Amara was just being playful or _actually_ flirting with him... it was odd, since John Smith he'd never considered as anything other than a friend... until now.

He blamed Martha for putting the idea into his head.

"That's me," Amara tilted her head and licked her lips, flashing a polite grin. "Oh, I'm feeling positively frisky today," she smiled when she saw his eyes widen.

"You need some action!" Martha interrupted the Doctor's stare by clamping a hand down on his shoulder, jolting him. "That'll sort it out," she slipped into her chair with a sigh, grinning at Amara. "A nice bloke."

"I'm not wanton, and I don't need a man." Amara rolled her eyes, throwing Martha a tiresome look. "You make me sound like some lustful creature."

"Nonsense... when was the last time you had a proper relationship?"

Amara shrugged dismissively, "No idea."

"Liar."

"What are you going to do? Arrest me?" she challenged with an amused glint shining in her eyes before she looked back at the Doctor again, "Please control your companion."

"Don't bring me into these..." the Doctor swallowed hard, "Womanly issues."

Amara rolled her eyes at him, "Coward."

The Doctor ducked his head and made a few more tweaks before made a noise with his tongue. "There! All done!" he pulled off his glasses and then slapped the table with his empty hand, reclining in his chair smugly. "It should work..."

"The only time you've only done any labour," Martha remarked, reaching for his newly made contraption with interest, "So, what is this thing?" the thing in her hands was a small box with what looked like an audio tape reel, threaded intricately through other parts of random items he'd tinkered together along with a telephone handset which hung limply from the side.

He'd even added a carrying handle and a leather shoulder strap and she mentally gave him points for fashion.

"What is that?" Amara frowned in thought, "The fourth attempt? No hard-boiled eggs this time then?"

"Oi!" the Doctor sent her a playful glare before looking to Martha, "It's a Timey-wimey detector!" he flipped a switch and the reel started to turn, "And it even goes ' _DING!_ ' when it detects artron energy, so I'll be able to locate anyone that the Angels send here," his wide grin was enough to tell both of the women that he thought himself to be very clever.

Martha wasn't going to tell him that, and she knew Amara would only taunt him for not being able to make one successfully the first time.

Amara leaned back into her chair and inclined her head with an amused smile, "So that's what you're going to do all day... walk around trying to find people ripped out of the future with a device that goes, and I quote, ' _DING!_ '"

"Yup," the Doctor gave a firm bob of his head. "If we're ever going to get out this, we _need_ to find Billy Shipton as soon as he arrives. I wish we knew when he would, it would make things so much easier," he reached for the purple folder again and began riffling through papers and photos among his mechanical mess on the table.

Amara didn't see how that was going to work when every attempt had been futile; they'd gone through the folder repeatedly, and had gained nothing. No details other than they would get trapped in nineteen sixty-nine. They didn't know when Billy would arrive or how long they would have to wait either.

"Well," Martha turned off the machine and sighed, "While you sit and act smug over your little creation, _I'm_ going to go to bed so I can pay for us to keep living here," she squeezed Amara's arm and patted the Doctor's head, "G'night!"

"See ya later, alligator!" the Doctor grinned after her as Amara resumed her marking with a soft sigh. He slowly looked over to her again and smiled at the sight of Amara as she worked away silently, humming to herself and jotting down notes every now and then.

"You're staring at me..." Amara commented with a small smile as she ticked and scribbled away, eyeing him momentarily. " _Again_." She tried her best to ignore it but sometimes it got the better of her, more so when it was just herself and the Doctor. She found she couldn't always ignore it.

It got the better of her, and she feared that at times, he didn't even realise he was doing it either.

What worried her more was when she saw him moving towards her, creeping into Martha's chair with a low sigh. "I can't help it," he admitted quietly and before he could comprehend it, he was reaching out to take the hand that held her pen, making her look at him. "It just... happens sometimes," he added, feeling himself flushing as her eyes searched his face questioningly.

Amara gritted her teeth as she felt his thumb tracing patterns across her hand, and she glanced away to briefly squeeze her eyes shut, "Then look away." She didn't want to encourage anything, and yet because of Martha, he seemed intent on doing that himself.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor muttered under his breath, his shoulders sagging as if an imaginary weight was bearing down upon him and he couldn't get it off his chest – he felt like it was drowning him.

"Don't," she didn't want to hear any excuses or for him to apologise again; he'd done that enough and yet, he still persisted and it drove her mad that he still thought he was the one to blame. She was trying to get past it and move on, but with every waking chance, he would bring it up and she felt trapped. "We agreed."

"I know," he stared at their hands and frowned, finding himself suddenly so conflicted with what he thought was right. "But it's changed hasn't it? Since John, I mean..."

Amara clenched her jaw and nodded in understanding – John Smith had changed everything, and she knew as well as he that he had altered their friendship and while he had made it more emotionally intimate, it was more strained. "Of course, it has. But that's the way it has to stay." But worried her more was that the Doctor sounded almost... _hopeful?_

That may be what they agreed but he knew the safeguard had _definitely_ been a bad idea in hindsight seeing how he could barely restrain the need to hold her hand or smile at her. She took up most of his attention but he did nothing to stop it either. "It's just sometimes I catch myself..." he winced at his words, ducking his head in his guilt before sucking in a sharp breath, "And I remember, and I get caught up in it and- "

"Don't you think that doesn't happen to me?" Amara murmured, searching his eyes as she bite her lip. He kept haunting her again and again, and she could barely process anything else and she knew... _she knew_.

The Doctor watched her for a moment, studying her features with intrigue. He could see why John Smith had fallen for her as quickly as he did (despite the fact that he made it so), and she fascinated him. Her relationship with the human him fascinated him. "How are you?" he whispered lowly, leaning towards her suddenly, closing the distance between them.

Amara smiled, resting her forehead against his shoulder as she let out a defeated sigh. He made it so difficult to let go when he was still quite clearly holding on to some part of John Smith. "Oh, you know..." she hummed softly, pausing to gather her thoughts. "I'm getting there."

The Doctor managed another smile at her response, somewhat content with it.

"But you have stop staring and getting _too_ close," Amara continued sternly, willing him to listen to what she was saying. "We can't keep taking one step forward and two steps back. It'll be endless otherwise."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

Amara almost double took at his words, eyeing him for a long moment and wondering what had possessed him to say such a thing and why he had seemingly forgotten what he had with Rose. "Yes, it would."

She pulled away, moving to brush a lock of hair behind her ear and it made him grin at the sight of her loose hair. Allowing himself to impulse, he tugged on the hand that moved to do it, holding it gently as he used his other hand to brush the lock back himself.

Amara stared at him pointedly, trying to ignore the impulses as he purposely did what John Smith had done so often. She wouldn't let him get the better of her, take advantage of what she had felt for John Smith.

And she didn't want to steal him from Rose. She didn't want to do that.

There had to be distance.

Noticing how rigid she'd grown, the Doctor immediately withdrew his hands entirely and clasped them together in his lap. He glanced away from her, biting down on his lower lip as she shifted in her seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

"Things like that _need_ to stop," she commented curtly, refusing to look at him. She wouldn't have him take advantage of her like he always seemed to be capable of doing without _really_ trying. "You can't keep doing that..."

He sighed but nodded, "Right, right."

With a sigh of her own, Amara rose to her feet with the intention of going to bed and trying to get an hour in somewhere. "I'll see you in the morning then?" she asked as his eyes followed her when she moved around the table.

"Can't you stay?"

Frowning, Amara turned to face him. "Stay?" she echoed hollowly, wondering what he was getting at.

The Doctor smiled sheepishly, "You know... keep me company for a little bit."

Hadn't she being that for the past five hours? She hoped he wasn't suggesting what she thought he was, more so, because she saw him moving towards his sofa-bed, and she resisted the urge to grimace. Watching as he arranged the thick woollen blanket, she sighed. "What for?"

"You did promise to read some Shakespeare to me."

Of course she did. She was stuck – and she knew she couldn't say no.

He'd been driven by the distraction to continue building his timey-wimey detector and had barely spoken to her all evening. But he wanted to make up for the prolonged silences. "Good ol' Othello to send us off!" he finally breathed, stranding up and motioning her over. "I have the appropriate supplies... blankets and pillows... what more could a person need?"

 _Distance_ , her brain screamed. She wish he wouldn't he look at her like that, with a such hopeful expression that she would crumble and agree. She could feel her resolve giving in the longer she looked at him. It was only a book, and all she would be doing was reading.

The Doctor, however, found himself oddly excited about the prospect of sharing the sofa-bed with Amara after having been on egg shells with her after the situation with the Family. He was eager for her to resume their usual routine of reading to him.

"One more thing!" he sung before rushing back over to the table with a wide grin.

He grabbed her copy of Shakespeare's ' _Othello_ ' from the table, knowing that the television couldn't even be an option, not when he spent most of the day tinkering with it, so it would constantly on the blink.

Quite often they would read to one another in the evening, and while Martha was out just to pass the time.

Amara would often curl against his side with her head on his shoulder, and sometimes he caught her falling asleep when he read to her. Something so simple yet it never failed to make him smile to see the roguish woman give in and look peaceful. It reminded him of the normality on the TARDIS, what he couldn't wait to return to.

"Can't forget this," he held it out for Amara to take from him as he plonked himself down with a grin, "Unless sleeping is on the cards but just so you know, I love it when you read to me."

"Better not," Amara admitted, her eyes falling to the floor.

 _Quite right, too._ The Doctor paused for a few moments, setting the book down with a sudden finality. He always tried to keep her at arm's length - but as he'd always known - he had become far too attached to her.

But he wouldn't fall in love with the idea of Amara. That he couldn't bring himself to do.

It pained him to even consider falling for her, and he couldn't let himself do that.

He held his breath at the mere thought, pushing all the desire away so it lurked deep within him, denying its very existence. _Don't... it'll go wrong,_ he told himself firmly.

It had crossed his mind that if John Smith had loved her, then perhaps a part of him did too.

His relationship with Amara hadn't been the same since John Smith. _How could it be?_ He had tried his best to avoid being alone with her, and refused to discuss what had happened between them because it only got the pair of the annoyed.

He had tried to keep himself busy but with the detector continuously failing, it was so hard and she seemed to _always be_ there.

He had been grateful for Martha - he wasn't certain he could have coped if he had been without her company. But even her usual positive attitude had dimmed in the past couples of weeks. Yes, she still pursued her hardworking attitude and surprising patience with him, but he could see in her eyes that she was missing their life before.

She'd cheered up some when Amara had arrived, putting the life back into her. He knew as soon as Billy arrived, she would be absolutely fine.

The Doctor sighed in his internal frustration - he seemed to be terrible at everything at the moment. "I don't want anything to change between us," he announced, voicing it aloud, hoping that it would be enough to settle himself.

"Right, of course..." she sighed as he risked a quick glance at her, "I don't want anything to change either."

He wanted so badly to comfort her - to reassure her of their friendship but he didn't know how to without saying the wrong thing or giving her a hug that would last longer the necessary because he could never bring himself to let go. However, she didn't give him the chance.

With a single, fluid movement, she made her way towards the bedroom she had adamantly started sharing with Martha.

He didn't know when to shut his mouth... and it wasn't doing him any favours.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello lovelies!**

 **So, the Doctor feels bad for what happened between himself and Amara and even though he's trying, she's distancing herself.** **Amara has... feelings of some sort.c** **Martha's enjoying the torment far too much.**

 **Till this day ' _Blink_ ' is still one of the episodes that makes me feel uneasy when watching it. It seems sort of ridiculous when I think about it. **

**The new season premiere of ' _Game of Thrones_ ' was also wonderful and I thoroughly enjoyed that! It made my entire weekend. I FEEL LIKE GOING ON AN UPDATING SPREE THANKS TO THAT!**

 **I hope you all like this update and the slow return to their friendship after the 'John' situation. But the question is - how will the Doctor feel when he learns that Amara may have a date?**

 **REVIEWERS:**

 **BoomBot - _Hi again! Thank you for another review, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story as much as you are. I hope you enjoy the update!_**

 **XxNimith531xX - _Hi! Well, it's going to be back and forth for a while and especially until the Master pops up. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter_** _ **hopefully, you like the update!**_

 **Arashi - IV of VI - _Hi! I'll admit the chapter was slightly back-and-forth... Amara fell in love with the idea of John and the Doctor had wanted to protect her but he hadn't necessarily gone the right way about it. Amara feels bad for having felt that way about John and fears those feelings will rule her head when she's travelling with the Doctor._**

 _ **The Doctor isn't entirely sure why Amara's reacting the way she is because as he says - John wasn't real, so he can't fathom why she was so attached to him. Amara feels bad about the entire situation, and it's entirely sure how to move past it. She felt she has to leave because she isn't sure she could be around someone who she indirectly loved - and because she thinks the feelings aren't entirely gone. The Doctor isn't ready to let go of anyone else just yet, and he fears being alone.**_

 _ **I'm sorry if it was a bit confusing, and neither of them are** **entirely sure what they want. I'm glad you're enjoying the story - that's always lovely to hear. I hope you like the update!**_

 **ShadowTeir -** _ **Hello again! Oh, the confrontation with the Master is volatile on Amara's behalf at least - they don't have the best past, and things will get worse before they get better. I went back and read it again - it's a shame because it was so good, the fluency of the writing and narrative were lovely to read.**_

 _ **Oh, thank you - I did think it might be a bit confusing with hoping tennis-like it seemed. Amara is essentially guilty for loving John because she has to live with the Doctor. The Doctor doesn't understand how she grew so attached to someone who didn't exist in his eyes. I would've decked him as well for being so ignorant - Amara's been so used to being alone, and doesn't know to live with someone loving her. I hate it when all someone can do is say 'thank you' and hope everything will get better. I'm glad I can channel the Doctor's mannerisms and characteristics.**_

 _ **I hope you like this update as well!**_

 _ **XXX**_

 **...**

 **Thank you as always,**

 **Love,**

 **Ezeiel**


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